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VALLEY  FORGE 

A  TALE 


BY 

ALDEN  W.  QUIMBY 


Copyright,  1906,  bjr 
BATON  &  MAINS. 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


First  Edition  Printed  October,  1006 

Reprinted  April,  1907;  December,  1909;  September.  1913;  June,  191? 
January,  1924 


CONTENTS 


Chapter  Page 

I.  Mars  and  Cupid i 

II.  The  Vagaries  of  Vulcan 17 

III.  Cupid  at  Church 24 

IV.  A  Bit  of  Buff-and-Blue 35 

V.  A  Diplomatic  Day 47 

VI.  A  Screed  of  Scarlet 57 

VII.  A  Tumult  in  Tredyffrin 69 

VIII.  Firing  a  Forge 78 

IX.  Loyalty  and  Love 86 

X.  A  Tale  of  Trespass 100 

XI.  The  Dilemmas  of  Diplomacy 119 

XII.  Crossing  the  Rubicon 132 

XIII.  The  Bitter  before  the  Sweet 144 

XIV.  The  Romance  of  an  Echo 156 

XV.  War  and  Wedding 170 

XVI.  Fortified  Favor 181 

XVII.  The  Humdrum  of  Honor 194 

XVIII.  A  Horse  Worthy  of  a  Kingdom 209 

XIX.  Love's  Labor  Found 220 

XX.  A  Valley  of  Humiliation 234 

XXI.  AMay  Medley 254 

XXII.  An  Overflowing  Cup 268 


2138089 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Home  of  Frances  Jones  (Howe's  Headquarters).  .Frontispiece 

Abel  Reese's  (Cornwallis's  Headquarters). .  .Facing  Page    48 

Home  of  Havard  Brown  (General  Knox's 

Headquarters)' "  "  94 

Neilley's "          "      150 

Home  of  Isaac  Potts  (Washington's  Head- 
quarters)   ••  "  188 

Where  the  Spy  Was  Caught ••         "      362 


CHAPTER  I 
MARS  AND  CUPID 

IT  was  a  sunny  Friday  afternoon  in  the  first  fort- 
night of  September,  in  the  year  of  grace  seventeen 
hundred  and  seventy-seven.  The  soft  autumnal 
breeze  that  coquetted  with  the  broad  green  leaves  of 
Peggy  Hambleton's  ungainly  but  hospitable  catalpas 
was  born  in  the  southwest,  as  the  lazy  weather-vane 
attached  to  the  eastern  gable  of  Neighbor  Reese's 
barn,  just  across  the  way,  plainly  indicated.  The 
idlers  about  the  premises,  who  were  more  numerous 
than  usual,  noted  the  direction  of  the  wind,  and 
commented  upon  it  ominously,  regarding  it  as 
portentous  of  disagreeable  events  that  were  likely 
to  have  their  inception  in  the  southwest  quarter.  . 

Peggy's  log  cottage  of  a  story  and  a  half  occupied  \ 
the  northeast  angle  of  the  (Old)  Lancaster  and 
Howelltown  roads,  in  that  portion  of  Tredyffrin  / 
Township,  Chester  County,  Pennsylvania,  which 
comprises  the  northern  suburbs  of  the  present  village 
of  Berwyn.  The  primitive  structure  faced  toward 
the  south,  and  overlooked  a  fine  area  of  table  land. 
The  road  from  Howelltown  crossed  the  Lancaster 
road,  and  continued  to  Newtown,  and  beyond.  A 
mile  south  of  Peggy's  corner  a  branch  led  to  the 
mill  on  Darby  Creek  and  to  Saint  David's  Church. 


2  VALLEY  FORGE 

The  ground  to  the  north  of  the  cottage  sloped 
rapidly  toward  a  ravine  abutting  on  the  Valley,  in 
whose  ferny  recesses  the  waters  flowing  from  a 
dozen  springs  mingled  merrily,  and  tumbled  over 
numberless  tiny  cascades  on  their  way  to  Trout 
Creek  and  the  Schuylkill. 

One  could  almost  look  into  the  open  door  of  the 
gleaming  white  cottage  of  James  and  Mary  Neilley, 
near  the  head  of  the  ravine,  and  into  that  of  William 
Downey  on  the  knoll  above,  as  well ;  and  could  make 
himself  heard  without  much  effort  at  Balsam 
Ringer's,  on  the  hill  to  the  right. 

Looking  eastward  along  the  Lancaster  road, 
which  traversed  the  ridge  known  as  the  South 
Valley  Hill,  one  saw  a  straggling  hamlet  reaching 
for  a  full  quarter  mile  to  Squire  Henny  Bell's,  where 
was  dispensed  not  only  law,  but  also  the  ordinary 
commodities  of  a  country  store.  It  were  as  well 
not  to  preserve  the  popular  but  vulgar  caption  of  the 
incipient  village — at  a  somewhat  later  period  it 
became  known  as  "Reeseville." 

Miss  Peggy  Hambleton,  with  her  buxom  assist- 
ant, Miss  Nancy  Mawhort,  brewed  such  seductive 
beer,  and  baked  such  tempting  cakes,  that  they 
never  had  cause  to  pine  for  patronage.  Teamsters 
and  travelers  paused  at  the  humble  cake-shop  for 
refreshment ;  and  certain  men  of  the  vicinage  found 
such  attraction  in  the  combined  guest-room  and 
kitchen  that  occasionally  their  vigilant  spouses  sur- 
prised them  at  their  draughts,  with  an  emphatic 
admonition  to  return  to  their  wonted  tasks,  and  to 
domestic  fidelity  in  general. 


MARS  AND  CUPID  3 

It  was  truly  a  warm  and  pleasant  September 
afternoon.  Peggy's  cakes  and  Nancy's  beer  were 
quite  up  to  their  well-recognized  standard ;  yet  this 
fact  scarcely  accounted  for  the  large  gathering  in 
the  house  and  about  the  door.  Fully  two  dozen 
men  were  eating,  drinking,  smoking,  but  especially 
noisily  disputing  upon  politics.  A  solitary  Indian, 
on  his  way  from  the  Susquehanna  to  the  City  of 
Brotherly  Love  with  a  load  of  baskets,  who  had 
bartered  some  of  his  handiwork  for  Nancy's  insidi- 
ous refreshment,  listened  curiously  to  the  animated 
tones  of  the  discussion,  but  evinced  little  interest  in 
its  platitudes.  The  saddle  horses,  which  were 
fastened  by  their  bridle  straps  to  fence  posts  or  rails, 
turned  their  heads,  as  if  in  wonder  at  such  protracted 
leisure;  and  a  gray  squirrel  squatted  in  a  listening 
attitude  on  a  limb  of  the  crookedest  of  the  "bean 
trees." 

Of  the  group — excluding  the  Indian — all  but  one 
shared  in  the  strife  of  tongues.  The  exception  was 
a  young  man  whose  age  was  probably  a  year  or 
two  short  of  thirty.  He  was  somewhat  above 
medium  height,  and  of  intellectual  expression.  His 
clothes  were  perceptibly  more  tasteful  than  those 
worn  by  the  remainder  of  the  company;  and  that 
they  had  not  been  frayed  by  labor  was  also  evident. 
As  he  tilted  his  chair  against  the  wall  his  moving 
eye  wandered  inquiringly  from  face  to  face,  while 
he  keenly  noted  the  opinions  expressed  by  the  con- 
vivial company.  Once  or  twice  he  was  appealed  to 
for  corroboration,  but  invariably  managed  to  evade 
any  positive  declaration. 


4  VALLEY  FORGE 

"Will  ye  no  try  a  mug  o'  the  new  cider,  Misther 
Tryon  ?"  asked  Miss  Nancy,  shrewdly  noticing  that 
he  who  abstained  so  strictly  from  speech  did  not 
emulate  her  other  guests  in  devotion  to  beverages. 
"My  word  for  't,  it's  jist  got  the  right  smack." 

"Yes,  Mister  Will,"  urged  Peggy,  "take  a 
draught  of  the  sweet  apple  juice.  'Twill  put  you  in 
heart  for  the  rest  of  your  journey,  and  prove  to 
you  what  sort  of  fruit  grows  on  this  slaty  ridge." 

Tryon  suffered  himself  to  be  persuaded,  and 
quaffed  from  the  thick,  blue  vessel  into  which  Miss 
Mawhort  had  hastened  to  draw  the  liquor.  While 
he  drank,  a  stir  in  front  of  the  house  drew  his  atten- 
tion, and  he  heard  the  words,  "Why  it's  Havard 
Brown,  on  Saladin."  He  paused,  listened  intently, 
and  then  set  the  half-drained  mug  on  the  table,  and 
crept  to  the  side  of  the  door,  where  he  could  over- 
hear what  was  said  without,  while  remaining 
invisible. 

The  loungers  outside  had  descried  down  the  Lan- 
caster road  the  approach  of  a  solitary  horseman. 
A  single  glance  at  steed  and  rider  sufficed,  and  two 
or  three  voices  exclaimed  simultaneously,  "Why,  it's 
Havard  Brown,  on  Saladin;  maybe  he  can  give  us 
some  news !"  Leisurely  the  traveler  drew  nigh.  His 
roadster  evoked  undisguised  admiration  from  the 
on-lookers,  being  a  handsome  pacer  of  medium  size, 
with  a  glossy  coat  shading  between  brown  and 
black,  and  a  superb  mane  and  tail.  Rustic  hyperbole 
credited  him  with  being  "swift  as  the  wind."  The 
impatient  gossips,  muttering  complaints  that  a  horse 
of  such  phenomenal  powers  should  be  permitted  to 


MAES  AND  CUPID  5 

move  so  sleepily,  eagerly  assembled  in  the  road,  to 
intercept  the  rider. 

For  the  first  time,  apparently,  the  latter — a  tall, 
well-formed  young  fellow  of  five-and-twenty — 
became  conscious  of  his  proximity  to  Peggy  Ham- 
bleton's,  and,  observing  the  purpose  of  its  familiar 
frequenters  to  parley  with  him,  instinctively  spoke 
to  his  beast,  and — yet  not  without  a  slight  display  of 
impatience,  and  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  as  he 
glanced  at  the  lounging  place — drew  up  opposite  the 
door. 

"Any  news,  Havard  ?" 

Before  Saladin's  rider  could  reply  a  hasty  excla- 
mation upon  the  part  of  one  of  the  questioners  drew 
the  attention  of  the  company  to  a  "chair"  coming 
down  the  Lancaster  road.  It  was  almost  upon  them 
when  discovered,  so  intent  were  the  gossips  upon 
communication  with  Brown ;  and  only  the  rattle  of 
its  single  pair  of  wheels,  whose  spokes  were  affected 
by  a  long  spell  of  dry  weather,  had  announced  it. 

Not  all  the  folk  in  the  road  knew  the  occupant; 
but  the  young  horseman,  recognizing  him  at  once, 
courteously  alighted,  and,  going  to  the  side  of  the 
"chair,"  saluted  him  with,  "Good  afternoon,  Judge 
Moore ;  I  hope  you  are  well,  sir." 

"Thank  you,  Havard,  I'm  about  as  well  as  a  man 
may  hope  to  be  when  he  has  lived  three  quarters  of 
a  century  and  is  tormented  with  gout.  I  can  scarcely 
shake  hands  with  you,  but — there,  I've  accomplished 
it  now.  I'm  exceedingly  glad  to  see  you.  How's 
your  mother?" 

"Mother's  as  well  as  usual,  thank  you,  Judge,  and 


6  VALLEY  FORGE 

I  know  she  would  like  to  see  you  over  at  our  house. 
I  regret  that  you  are  suffering  so.  Does  nothing 
give  you  relief?" 

"No ;  one  might  as  well  throw  physic  to  the  dogs, 
for  all  the  good  it  does  in  my  case ;  but,  tell  me,  have 
you  any  news  from  below?  We  are  on  different 
sides  of  the  controversy,  I  know ;  but  that  need  not 
prevent  our  neighborliness.  Lame  as  I  am,  I  have 
been  over  at  the  'Turk's  Head,'  and  I  find  that  the 
royal  arms  were  completely  victorious  yesterday." 

The  venerable  man  was  a  stickler  for  etiquette; 
yet  his  lustrous  black  eyes  flashed  with  the  fire  of 
youth,  and  his  young  friend  could  detect  a  shade  of 
personal  triumph  in  the  last  sentence.  The  group 
of  idlers  hung  upon  Brown's  response,  it  being 
exactly  what  they  also  desired  to  hear.  The  Judge 
had  nodded  to  them  collectively  upon  his  arrival; 
and  later  to  Peggy  and  Nancy,  who  now  stood  in 
the  doorway,  profoundly  interested  in  the  colloquy. 
The  young  man  hesitated,  as  if  doubtful  of  the 
propriety  of  telling  what  he  knew ;  and  then,  evi- 
dently persuaded  that  no  harm  could  come  from  his 
communication,  remarked : 

"They  say  that  Washington  expects  to  try  it 
again  before  long;  there  are  movements  on  foot 
that  look  as  though  something  were  up." 

One  of  the  bystanders  impatiently  interrupted 
with  the  query,  "What's  said  about  the  fight  in  Bir- 
mingham? Were  we  licked  all  to  pieces,  as  we 
heard  late  last  night?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Brown.  "When  Cornwallis 
came  over  the  creek  by  Jefferis's  he  fell  upon  Sulli- 


MARS  AND  CUPID  7 

van  and  fought  him  up  on  the  high  ground,  where 
the  marquis  was  wounded  in  the  leg;  and  then, 
when  Sullivan  couldn't  hold  the  position  any  longer, 
Greene  came  up  from  Chadd's,  and  saved  him  from 
destruction." 

"Well,  did  the  whole  army  get  away  all  right?" 

"Pretty  much  so.  If  Sullivan  had  had  pickets  out 
along  the  fords,  to  watch  the  redcoats,  so  as  to  be 
sure  that  Howe's  army  was  divided,  Washington 
would  have  crossed  at  Chadd's,  and  struck  Knyp- 
hausen,  and  finished  him  up  with  all  the  British 
baggage,  and  then  taken  Cornwallis  when  he  could 
not  help  himself.  We  lost  a  smart  lot,  but  still  the 
army  got  away  to  Chester  last  night,  and  went  to 
Darby  early  this  morning :  and,  as  they  say,  Wash- 
ington's brisking  up  to  face  Howe  once  more." 

In  spite  of  his  usual  courtliness  a  scornful  smile 
illumined  the  pallid  face  of  the  Judge;  and  he  could 
nor  forbear  saying  to  his  young  friend:  "Havard, 
the  cause  of  the  rebels  is  wrong,  and  cannot  prosper. 
Besides,  the  trained  men  of  arms  are  on  the  king's 
side.  Your  Washington,  I  admit,  has  many  fine 
traits,  but  in  military  skill  he  is  no  match  for  the 
royal  generals.  Take  my  word  for  it,  Howe  will 
catch  him  one  of  these  days ;  or  Cornwallis,  who  is 
a  very  likely  soldier,  will  bring  him  to  with  a  round 
turn." 

"But,  Judge,  you  forget  how  brilliantly  Washing- 
ton outgeneraled  Cornwallis  last  winter,  at  Trenton ; 
and  if  the  scouts  had  only  done  their  duty  on  the 
Brandywine  yesterday  he  would  surely  have 
defeated  Howe.  I  have  not  been  brought  up  to 


8  VALLEY  FORGE 

understand  the  principles  of  strategy,  but  those  who 
know  something  of  such  things  say  that  Washing- 
ton's plan  was  an  excellent  one — to  cross  at  Chadd's 
and  attack  the  small  army  there  while  the  larger 
one  under  Howe  and  Cornwallis  was  miles  away. 
Only  the  carelessness  of  the  mounted  scouts  spoiled 
it."' 

The  Judge  could  not  but  recognize  the  force  of 
Brown's  argument,  and  contented  himself  with 
criticising  the  Revolutionary  movement  in  general, 
and  prophesying  its  utter  failure  before  spring. 
Then,  not  relishing  the  fact  that  his  remarks  had 
been  made  in  the  presence  of  a  crowd  that  took  no 
part  in  the  discussion,  he  gathered  up  his  lines,  spoke 
to  his  trusty  horse,  and  with  a  nod  to  the  company, 
and  a  friendly  farewell  to  Havard  Brown,  deliber- 
atively  drove  on  to  the  store  of  his  judicial  confrere, 
Squire  Bell. 

The  gossips  recovered  their  tongues  as  soon  as 
he  departed,  and  vented  their  spleen  upon  "the  old 
Tory,"  charging  him  with  being  in  league  with 
America's  oppressors,  and  his  home  at  Moore  Hall 
as  constituting  a  rendezvous  for  the  minions  of  the 
king,  and  one  zealot  remarked,  "He  ought  to  be 
mobbed!" 

Havard  Brown  responded  with  some  warmth. 
"You  well  know,"  he  said,  "what  sentiments  I 
entertain  in  this  unfortunate  quarrel.  Yet  I  would 
have  you  know  that  Judge  Moore  is  a  noble-spirited 
man,  and  conscientious  in  his  attitude.  Although 
we  must  disagree  with  him.  he  and  many  others  all 
around  us  are  honest  in  their  opposition  to  the  Revo- 


MAES  AND  CUPID  9 

lution ;  and  we  certainly  ought  not  to  speak  unkindly 
of  our  neighbors.  It  is  quite  as  difficult  for  them  to 
yield  their  opinions  as  it  is  for  us." 

How  long  he  might  have  proceeded  in  this  vein 
is  indeterminable;  but  at  this  juncture  the  involun- 
tary orator  caught  sight,  of  a  youthful  feminine  fig- 
ure, with  such  a  transfer  of  interest  that  he  con- 
trived to  bring  his  remarks  to  a  period;  but  not 
before  the  young  woman,  who  carried  a  basket,  had 
hurried  by  the  excited  group,  keeping  well  on  its 
outskirts,  and  evidently  shrinking  from  contact  with 
it.  Then,  edging  away  from  his  catechists,  the 
young  man  mounted  his  horse,  and  while  their  mur- 
murs at  his  abrupt  departure  still  sounded  in  his 
ears,  rode  down  the  Howelltown  road,  into  which 
the  maiden  had  turned. 

It  was  no  wonder  that  rustic  gossips  fed  upon 
the  pabulum  of  war.  The  booming  of  the  guns  at 
the  battle  of  the  Brandywine,  the  day  before,  had 
been  plainly  heard  on  the  high  ground  about  Peggy 
Hambleton's ;  and  one  of  the  residents  of  the  hamlet, 
who  happened  to  be  at  the  "Turk's  Head"  during 
the  progress  of  the  fray,  had  viewed  from  an  eleva- 
tion near  the  inn  the  brilliant  array  of  men  in  scar- 
let, with  burnished  arms,  as  they  moved  onward, 
through  Sconnelltown,  and  over  Osborne's  Hill,  to 
attack  the  Americans  at  Birmingham  meeting-house. 
What  would  next  occur — where  the  scene  should 
now  be  shifted — were  the  uppermost  themes  in  the 
minds  of  the  inhabitants  along  the  important 
"king's  highway"  between  Philadelphia  and  Lan- 
caster. 


io  VALLEY  FORGE 

Saladin  covered  the  distance  between  Peggy's 
and  the  briskly  walking  maiden  in  a  trice;  and  the 
latter,  half  turning  at  the  sound  of  hoof-beats,  dis- 
closed the  face  of  a  girl  of  twenty-three.  A  pair  of 
clear  blue  eyes  shone  out  from  a  capacious  sunbon- 
net;  while  dimpled  cheeks,  soft  with  the  charm  of 
maidenhood,  and  slightly  tinged,  mayhap,  with  the 
abruptness  of  the  meeting,  supplied  an  admirable 
background  to  rosy  lips  and  an  aquiline  nose.  A 
mass  of  brown  hair,  neatly  coiled,  was  hidden  by  the 
primitive  head  covering. 

"Frances!" 

"Havard !" 

The  first  name  was  uttered  eagerly,  the  second 
with  an  atom  of  reserve,  yet  cordially. 

The  horseman  dismounted,  thrust  his  left  hand 
through  the  bridle  rein,  and  with  his  right  heartily 
grasped  a  plump  little  member  that  was  willingly 
extended.  The  basket,  which  contained  a  few  pur- 
chases at  Squire  Henny  Bell's,  was  appropriated  by 
the  young  man,  and  the  pair  walked  slowly  onward 
through  woods  of  chestnut  and  oak  to  the  verge  of 
the  Valley. 

The  road  soon  sharply  descended  the  South  Val- 
ley Hill,  and  as  the  primeval  forest  had  been  thinned 
by  the  woodman's  axe,  glimpses  of  a  blue  beyond 
flashed  upon  the  friends.  They  came  to  a  clearing 
where  the  road  forked,  the  branch  to  the  left  wind- 
ing down  to  the  Swedes'  Ford  road  at  Mary 
Howell's,  while  the  other,  first  swerving  round  to 
the  eastward,  again  turned  nearly  northward  to 
anticipate  the  same  road  a  little  east  of  Davis's. 


MARS  AND  CUPID  n 

The  faint  vista  disclosed  through  the  tree  tops 
having  given  place  to  an  unobstructed  view  of  a 
portion  of  the  Great,  or  Chester  Valley,  exclama- 
tions of  pleasure  were  indulged  in  by  the  pair.  The 
view  was  not  extensive,  the  nearer  woodland  cir- 
cumscribing it  upon  both  the  west  and  the  east,  while 
it  was  scarcely  three  miles  across  the  depression  to 
the  foot  of  the  North  Valley  Hill.  But  there  are 
few  lovelier  scenes  than  the  modest  vale  that  lies 
so  cozily  between  its  inclosing  ridges,  narrowing, 
widening,  or  curving  with  the  slaty  barrier  on  the 
south,  and  the  forest-crowned  wall  of  sandstone  on 
the  north. 

The  brilliant,  slanting  sunlight  invested  a  gap  in 
the  opposite  hill  with  such  artistic  perspective  that 
its  dreamy  gates  resembled  Titanic  lips  unfolding 
to  salute  the  bashful  southern  ridge.  The  western 
gate  was  styled  "Mount  Misery,"  while  the  eastern 
was  known  as  "Mount  Joy" — names  that  tradition 
declares  were  bestowed  by  William  Penn  during  a 
search  for  his  "Letitia  Manor," — he  having  lost 
his  bearings  on  the  former  and  found  them  again 
on  the  latter. 

To  the  right  of  Mount  Joy,  over  a  fascinating 
sweep  of  hill  and  dale,  appeared  the  distant  heights 
of  Philadelphia  County,  clad  in  that  exquisite  blue 
that  nature  so  freely  employs  in  garnishing  her 
favorite  bits  of  scenery.  And  just  over  the  sleepy 
portals  that  guarded  the  hidden  Valley  Forge  and 
the  Schuylkill  was  a  delicate  crown  of  the  same 
tissuey  tint,  that  told  of  ranges  far  beyond,  which 
skirt  a  wider  valley  reaching  to  the  Susquehanna. 


12  VALLEY  FORGE 

Havard  Brown  hitched  his  horse  to  a  sapling  that 
stood  by  the  roadside,  that  he  might  scale  the  rough- 
rider  fence  into  a  field ;  and,  Miss  Jones  having  been 
helped  over,  the  friends  advanced  to  a  spot  in  the 
shade  of  a  venerable  chestnut,  and  scanned  the  Val- 
ley in  the  direction  of  Diamond  Rock.  No  village 
was  discernible,  and  the  dwellings  scattered  over  the 
field  of  view  were  comparatively  few. 

The  conversation  of  the  couple  was  that  of  famil- 
iars who  were  glad  to  meet  again ;  and  after  Brown 
had  explained  his  morning  run  toward  Philadelphia 
to  secure  information  concerning  the  Brandywine 
battle,  Miss  Jones  remarked  apologetically,  "I  fear 
that  mother  will  be  alarmed  unless  I  reach  home 
soon.  I  would,  of  course,  have  taken  our  wood  road 
near  Peggy's,  but  that  I  must  stop  at  Eliza  Work- 
hizer's." 

Her  companion  insisted  upon  attending  her,  and 
without  further  delay  let  down  some  bars  leading 
into  Workhizer's  lane,  to  admit  her  and  Saladin, 
and,  having  put  them  up  again,  led  the  way  to  the 
farmhouse  at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  Miss  Jones's 
errand  being  speedily  accomplished,  they  availed 
themselves  of  a  private  road  on  Abel  Reese's  prop- 
erty to  the  eastward ;  and  in  another  quarter  of  an 
hour  approached  the  plain,  snug  dwelling  that  the 
young  lady  called  "home." 

"You  must  put  Saladin  in  the  stable,  Havard," 
pleasantly  commanded  Miss  Jones,  "Mother  will  not 
let  you  go  home  before  tea."  And,  as  her  mother 
now  appeared  in  the  yard,  and  seconded  the  invita- 
tion, he  consented  to  remain,  but  merely  secured 


MARS  AND  CUPID  13 

Saladin's  bridle  strap  to  a  ring  in  the  hitching  post. 

The  stone  house  of  Samuel  and  Mercy  Jones  lay 
close  to  the  foot  of  the  South  Valley  Hill.  It  con- 
sisted of  two  stories,  embracing  two  rooms  each, 
and  an  attic.  A  brooklet  ran  through  the  yard, 
and  was  used  for  general  household  purposes; 
while  a  spring-house,  containing  a  bubbling  foun- 
tain of  limestone  water,  kept  the  milk  and  butter 
cool,  and  furnished  the  table  with  a  beverage. 

The  barn  was  of  logs,  and  of  good  size.  The 
front  of  the  dwelling  looked  out  upon  the  wooded 
South  Hill,  and  an  apple  orchard  lay  between,  while 
directly  in  front  of  the  house  was  a  number  of  large 
shade  trees.  At  some  distance  to  the  west  was 
Mount  Airy,  a  moderate  eminence  crowned  with 
a  grove  of  oaks,  from  which  an  unusually  open  view 
of  the  Valley  was  obtainable.  One  could  locate 
Saint  Peter's  up  the  Valley,  and  the  eastward  sweep 
looked  across  the  SchuylkiH,  as  well  as  down  the 
course  of  its  pebbly  banks. 

Frances  excused  herself  while  she  went  to  lay 
aside  her  traveling  dress,  and  soon  reappeared  ready 
for  kitchen  and  dairy  service,  but  none  the  less 
attractive  in  neat  workaday  garments.  Her  mother 
begged  that  indulgence  for  lack  of  adequate 
preparation  for  an  esteemed  guest  which  few  house- 
keepers of  any  era  fail  to  request,  but  the  supper 
was  delicious,  and  the  exquisitely  dean  kitchen  in 
which  it  was  served  imparted  an  additional  zest  to 
the  meal. 

No  other  topic  could  receive  such  close  attention 
as  that  of  the  political  state  of  the  country.  Mr. 


14  VALLEY  FORGE 

Jones,  who  arrived  from  an  absence  at  Gordon's 
Ford  just  in  time  for  participation  in  the  repast, 
and  who  seemed  pleased  to  greet  Havard,  dwelt 
earnestly  upon  the  embarrassing  condition  of  affairs, 
and  expressed  fears  that  grave  local  complications 
would  ensue. 

Not  every  resident  of  the  Great  Valley  was  in 
sympathy  with  the  Colonies  in  their  desperate  con- 
test. Indeed,  the  Tories  were  numerous,  and  many 
a  drove  of  fat  cattle,  and  load  of  hay  and  grain, 
found  their  way  to  the  emissaries  of  Britain,  who 
were  prepared  to  pay  roundly  for  supplies  that  the 
slender  purse  of  the  patriots  could  not  compass.  Mr. 
Jones  was  not  rashly  outspoken  in  his  approval  of 
the  Declaration  of  Independence,  but  his  secret 
desires  embraced  the  success  of  the  Revolutionary 
movement. 

Havard  Brown's  views  were  crystallized  in  par- 
tiality for  the  patriot  cause.  The  repressive  tenets 
of  his  Quaker  ancestry  relative  to  military  violence 
had  been  potent  in  discouraging  him  from  espousing 
the  profession  of  a  soldier;  yet  there  were  times 
when  he  seriously  questioned  the  morality  of  neu- 
trality, and  felt  a  strong  inclination  to  cast  in  his 
lot  with  his  countrymen,  who  were  venturing  their 
all  upon  the  success  or  failure  of  armed  resistance 
to  the  exactions  of  George  the  Third. 

Havard  paid  his  hostess  an  unmistakable  compli- 
ment in  the  heartiness  of  his  appetite,  and  ate  the 
flaky  rusk  and  appetizing  ham  and  eggs,  and  sipped 
the  fragrant  tea — a  great  rarity  in  that  year ! — with 
a  relish  that  delighted  her. 


MARS  AND  CUPID  15 

The  sun  had  already  dropped  behind  the  trees  on 
Mount  Airy,  and  it  was  necessary  for  Havard  to 
turn  his  face  homeward,  since  some  chores  needed 
attention  before  night;  so,  excusing  himself,  he 
mounted  his  now  impatient  horse,  and,  passing  out 
into  the  road  connecting  with  the  Swedes'  Ford, 
soon  swung  around  to  the  Valley  Creek,  and,  skirt- 
ing it,  came  up  steadily  toward  his  home,  which  lay 
at  the  head  of  the  Valley  Forge  dam. 

The  fine  hills  that  we  have  called  the  "gates"  to 
the  Forge  were  in  full  view.  Mount  Joy  directly 
confronted  the  house,  and  far  up  its  stony  steeps 
grew  the  abundant  chestnut  timber.  The  fertile 
fields  at  its  base  lent  a  domestic  charm  to  the  attract- 
ive picture,  and  this  was  enhanced  by  the  peculiar 
shade  that  the  evening  time  imparts.  Dusk  was  fast 
affecting  the  meadowy  ravine  through  which  ran  the 
creek,  and  Mount  Misery  especially  was  taking  on  a 
somber  hue,  when  the  young  farmer  rode  up  the 
bank  to  the  substantial  barn  and  stabled  his  faithful 
steed. 

A  matronly  form  now  appeared  upon  the  porch; 
a  mother  voice,  pure  and  sweet,  uttered  the  words, 
"Thee  has  come  home  at  last,  Havard — a  little 
later  than  I  could  have  wished.  But  thee  has  been 
busy,  and  thee's  tired  and  hungry.  The  supper's 
been  waiting  this  long  time.  What !  thee's  had  thy 
supper — at  Mercy  Jones's !  Then  thee's  had  a  bet- 
ter than  mine.  And  how  is  my  Frances,  whom  I 
love  almost  as  I  would  a  daughter?" 

What  a  placid  face  it  was  that  Rebecca  Brown 
presented  beneath  the  little  Quaker  cap,  that  she  per- 


1 6  VALLEY  FORGE 

sisted  in  wearing  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  her 
membership  in  the  Society  terminated  when  she 
"married  out  of  meeting." 

As  we  have  observed,  Havard  followed  his  father 
in  phrase,  although  sometimes  in  addressing  his 
mother  he  fell  into  the  Friends'  way.  Resembling 
that  father  in  manly  presence,  his  face  largely  par- 
took of  his  mother's  features;  and  many  a  rustic 
maiden  stole  admiring  glances  at  one  whose  herit- 
age from  both  parents,  in  physical  and  psychical 
respects  alike,  was  so  goodly. 

Havard  briefly  explained  to  his  mother  the  situa- 
tion of  affairs,  so  far  as  he  had  been  able  to  deter- 
mine it,  and  when  the  evening  work  was  done  no 
time  was  lost  by  either  in  preparation  for  retiring. 


CHAPTER  II 
THE  VAGARIES  OF  VULCAN 

ON  Saturday  morning  Havard  Brown  rose  long 
before  the  sun,  to  plow  a  field  for  wheat,  whose 
seeding  had  been  postponed  because  of  the  dryness 
of  the  soil.  Finding,  after  several  rounds,  that  his 
gear  required  repair  at  the  smithy,  he  took  a  well- 
worn  path  close  to  the  creekside  in  the  ravine,  that 
led  directly  to  the  Valley  Forge.  The  narrow  strip 
of  meadow  was  unfenced  on  the  hillsides,  the  steep 
slopes  of  the  gap,  covered  with  loose,  slippery  stones, 
furnishing  no  temptation  to  cattle  to  stray  from  the 
green  stretches  at  their  base. 

A  ten  minutes'  walk  brought  Havard  to  the  bend 
in  the  creek,  where,  on  a  wider  flat,  stood  the  Val- 
ley Forge.  A  bridge  spanned  the  creek  in  front 
of  it,  and  just  above  it  was  the  dam  breast.  To  the 
eastward,  through  an  opportune  depression  in 
Mount  Joy,  a  wood  road  connecting  with  the  Gulph 
road  offered  means  of  transportation  Philadelphia- 
ward,  while  a  similar  glen  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  creek  provided  a  rough  thoroughfare  by  which 
raw  metal  was  brought  from  the  furnace  at  War- 
wick. 

The  fires  of  this  young  industry  were  already 
aglow  for  their  work  of  the  day,  when  the  plow- 
man approached  the  smithy  connected  with  it.  The 

17 


1 8  VALLEY  FORGE 

brawny  blacksmith  promptly  undertook  a  little  job 
in  accommodation  of  a  neighbor's  needs.  Mean- 
while Havard  was  saluted  by  Colonel  William 
Dewees,  one  of  the  proprietors ;  and  as  a  matter  of 
course  the  topic  upon  which  both  became  absorbingly 
engaged  was  the  recent  events  in  Bir-mingham. 

"Pretty  close  work,  Colonel!"  suggestively 
remarked  the  younger. 

"Yes,"  responded  the  ironmaster,  who  held  a 
position  in  the  militia  service,  "things  are  getting 
as  warm  as  yonder  fires ;  there's  no  telling  what  will 
turn  up  in  a  very  little  while." 

"Think  that  the  trouble  '11  swing  round  this 
way?" 

"Shouldn't  wonder;  all  the  more  because  Sam 
Potts  came  up  from  High  Street  bridge  last  night 
about  eleven,  and  said  he  was  sure  that  the  army 
would  make  in  this  direction." 

"What,  you  don't  mean  that  this  neighborhood 
is  likely  to  see  a  battle,  do  you?" 

"Well,  not  exactly  that ;  but,  as  far  as  I  can  make 
out  the  situation,  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  Washington 
would  creep  out  the  Lancaster  road  and  show  him- 
self to  the  reds  pretty  soon.  It's  altogether  likely 
that  they'll  come  across  from  Birmingham,  and  try 
the  other  door  into  town;"  and  the  colonel  picked 
up  a  stone  and  scratched  on  the  bridge  planks  a  rude 
plan  of  the  probable  position  of  the  British  forces 
on  the  other  side  of  the  "Turk's  Head,"  the  present 
county  seat  of  West  Chester. 

"You  see,"  said  he,  "the  reds  are  somewhere  over 
about  the  'Seven  Stars,'  at  Village  Green— that  is, 


THE  VAGARIES  OF  VULCAN  19 

part  of  'em — and  the  other  lot  can't  be  far  from 
Concord ;  now  they'll  make  for  the  'Turk'  sure,  and 
take  the  highroad  for  the  Schuylkill,  at  one  of  the 
fords,  see  if  they  don't ;  and  if  so,  then  look  out  for 
the  big  guns  before  long." 

"Hang  it,"  he  continued,  after  a  moment,  glanc- 
ing around  to  see  who  might  be  within  earshot, 
"Havard,  we're  in  a  pretty  bad  fix  here." 

His  companion  looked  surprised;  whereupon  the 
colonel  motioned  him  to  the  side  of  a  little  spring 
that  trickled  from  beneath  Mount  Joy,  and  said  in 
a  whisper,  "Havard,  you  haven't  heard  any  intima- 
tions about  ammunition  and  stores  being  kept  here, 
have  you?" 

"No,"  responded  the  other,  astonished;  and  the 
ironmaster,  relieved,  resumed: 

"I  guess  it's  been  very  well  kept,  after  all ;  we've 
been  mighty  afraid  that  the  Tryons  would  smell  the 
powder;  and  you  know  they  are  near  relations  of 
that  rascally  governor  over  in  New  York." 

Perceiving  that  all  this  was  Greek  to  his  auditor, 
he  proceeded :  "For  some  time  we  have  been  stor- 
ing arms  and  powder,  and  some  other  goods,  in  that 
frame  shed  back  of  the  Forge,  and  also  in  the  grist 
mill.  It's  been  a  ticklish  thing  to  haul  so  much 
stuff  without  exciting  suspicion;  and  the  teams 
mostly  get  here  about  nine  or  ten  o'clock  at  night — 
especially  if  their  loads  are  much  out  of  the  ordinary 
shape.  Only  yesterday  Bill  Tryon  seemed  curious 
to  know  why  we  hauled  so  many  supplies,  and 
judged  we  must  be  expecting  to  do  a  bigger  busi- 
ness." 


2O  VALLEY  FORGE 

"Havard,"  he  continued,  "I've  studied  you  for 
some  time,  and  while  I  know  you've  never  taken 
any  part  in  the  Revolution  I  think  I  can  trust  you 
in  an  important  matter;"  and  he  looked  searchingly 
at  the  young  man. 

The  latter  flushed,  but  without  hesitation  replied : 
"Colonel,  you're  right ;  I  have  thought  a  great  deal 
about  it,  and  haven't  been  quick  to  act,  but  of  late 
I've  felt  that  I  ought  to  be  doing  something  for  our 
country,  and  I  think  you  may  trust  me." 

His  bright,  honest  eyes  evidently  impressed  and 
satisfied  his  perturbed  neighbor ;  and  after  a  few 
moments,  glancing  around  once  more  to  be  sure 
that  he  could  not  be  overheard,  the  colonel 
exclaimed :  "I  think  we'll  have  to  be  getting  the 
stores  out  of  here.  Washington  is  badly  handi- 
capped with  undrilled  men.  I'm  afraid  if  we  do 
have  a  battle  in  the  Valley  that  he  can't  make  it; 
and  if  he  should  be  beaten — why,  the  reds  will 
pounce  on  us,  sure.  Now  the  Forge  and  the  mill 
will  be  in  danger,  if  anybody  smells  the  stock — 
it  may  be  we'll  be  ruined  anyhow,  but  if  they  get 
wind  of  the  stores,  that  will  settle  the  matter.  We'll 
have  to  get  the  whole  thing  across  the  river  to  insure 
safety  from  the  reds." 

The  colonel  stopped  to  drink  from  the  spring, 
using  a  calabash  that  lay  at  its  brink ;  then,  resuming 
his  remarks,  inquired,  "Havard,  will  you  help  get 
the  stuff  across  ?" 

It  was  a  clear  test,  but  Havard  scarcely  hesitated 
before  saying,  "Yes,  I'll  do  it  for  Freedom's  sake. 
It's  hard  to  think  of  shedding  blood,  even  in  a  con- 


THE  VAGARIES  OF  VULCAN  21 

test  tor  liberty;  and  perhaps  this  is  no  better,  for 
the  ammunition  will  be  used  that  way  sometime ;  but 
still  I  should  feel  better  not  to  pull  trigger  at  a 
human  being,  be  he  Britisher  or  not." 

The  colonel  looked  gratified,  and  responded : 
''Well,  I'll  let  you  know  when  it  must  be  done; 
most  likely  it'll  have  to  be  at  night,  but  what- 
ever can  be  done  by  day  that  won't  excite  suspicion 
had  better  be  looked  after  then.  Leastways  I'll 
let  you  know  when  we  make  the  strike." 

The  ironmaster  moved  as  though  to  leave  the 
spot;  but  paused,  and  whispered,  "I  don't  know 
what  to  say  about  some  more  stores  we  have  hidden ; 
it's  nip  and  tuck  whether  they  ought  to  be  removed 
or  not." 

Havard  was  curious  to  know  where  these  were 
kept,  but  his  sense  of  propriety  smothered  the 
inquiry. 

But  the  colonel  had  determined  not  only  to  reveal 
the  hiding  place,  but  to  ask  Havard's  opinion  in  the 
case. 

"You  know  the  mill  across  the  Valley  in  Hammer 
Hollow?" 

"Yes,  very  well;  the  Hollow's  a  sneaky  place  to 
get  into;  a  man  might  live  in  the  neighborhood  a 
month  of  Sundays  and  never  suspect  its  existence." 

"Just  so,"  laughed  the  colonel,  "that's  the  very 
reason  we  used  it.  Howe  might  pass  the  spot  a 
hundred  times  a  day  and  not  discover  it ;  the  ques- 
tion is,  is  it  best  to  get  the  stuff  away  lest  Howe  find 
it,  or  let  it  rest  there  ?" 

Havard  modestly  said  that  his  opinion  was  worth 


22  VALLEY  FORGE 

very  little,  but  such  as  it  was  he  would  suppose  that 
it  was  as  safe  a  place  as  could  be  found. 

For  some  time  longer  they  continued  to  discuss 
the  subject;  and  the  grimy  smith  had  finished 
Havard's  work,  and  resumed  his  regular  labors, 
when  at  last  the  conference  was  broken  up,  and  the 
two  returned  to  the  shop.  Havard  picked  up  his 
harness,  inquired  the  cost  of  the  repairs,  and  then 
hastened  up  the  meadow  path.  A  slide  of  stones 
attracted  his  attention,  and  for  a  moment  he  fancied 
that  he  heard  footsteps  among  the  loose  fragments 
far  above  him,  but  he  dismissed  the  impression. 

If  the  colonel  had  heard  the  sound  referred  to, 
his  military  instinct  would  have  led  him  to  inquire 
carefully  into  its  cause.  Yet,  as  he  stood  by  the 
bridge,  lost  in  reverie,  looking  after  the  retreating 
form  of  Havard,  glad  to  have  secured  the  help  of 
a  young  man  of  such  good  judgment,  he  fancied 
he  detected  a  moving  figure  on  Mount  Joy.  It 
was  but  for  a  moment  that  he  perceived  it,  and  now, 
fully  aroused  from  his  meditations,  he  scanned  the 
hillside  for  a  solution  of  the  mystery.  But  he  saw 
nothing  more. 

By  what  chance  was  it  that  William  Tryon,  the 
uncommunicative  member  of  Peggy  Hambleton's 
choice  company,  and  pointedly  referred  to  in  the 
colloquy  by  the  spring,  had  come  across  Mount  Joy 
that  morning,  from  his  home  near  the  Valley  Meet- 
ing? In  truth  it  was  a  simple  domestic  errand, 
which  was  immediately  abandoned  when  he  dis- 
covered the  interview  in  the  edge  of  the  woods. 
Only  one  word  of  the  conversation  reached  his  ears. 


THE  VAGARIES  OF  VULCAN  23 

It  was  when  the  ironmaster  chuckled  at  the  thought 
of  the  security  of  the  goods  in  Hammer  Hollow, 
and  unguardedly  uttered  "stores."  But  it  conveyed 
a  world  of  meaning. 

Havard  and  his  farm  boy  filled  up  the  entire  day 
with  their  circuits  of  the  fallow  field.  The  partially 
baked  condition  of  the  soil,  together  with  the  pres- 
ence of  refractory  rocks,  made  it  hard  to  plow,  and 
the  ringing  of  the  supper  bell  was  a  welcome  sound. 


CHAPTER  III 
CUPID  AT  CHURCH 

SUNDAY  dawned — rather  prematurely,  Havard 
thought;  and  the  weary  farmer  reluctantly  flung 
off  the  bed  covers,  and  prepared  to  discharge  the 
light  duties  of  the  morning.  Perhaps  Saladin's 
grooming  was  more  particular  than  in  common, 
since  he  was  to  bear  his  master  to  Saint  Peter's,  up 
the  Valley. 

Havard  brought  in  an  ample  supply  of  wood, 
built  a  fire  in  the  huge  fireplace,  and  put  on  the 
swinging  crane  a  kettle  filled  with  fresh  water  from 
the  spring  in  the  meadow.  His  filial  eye  took  in 
many  little  services  whose  thoughtfulness  gratified 
a  mother's  heart,  and  when  Mrs.  Brown — a  well 
preserved  widow  of  forty-five — appeared  in  her  neat 
kitchen  dress  her  beaming  face  attested  her  appre- 
ciation. "Dear  Havard,"  she  murmured,  "how  kind 
he  has  ever  been — just  like  his  father !"  and  a  tear 
dimmed  her  eye. 

Samuel  Brown  had  been  at  rest  for  several  years. 
'A  lung  fever  had  carried  him  off,  as  his  widow 
sighingly  said,  "before  the  evil  days"  of  the  Ameri- 
can Revolution.  His  body  was  among  the  first  to 
find  interment  in  the  little  burying  ground  on  which 
was  erected,  a  few  years  after  the  Treaty  of  Ver- 

24 


CUPID  AT  CHURCH  25 

sailles,  the  small  stone  structure  known  as  "Eagle 
School." 

The  elder  Brown's  educational  advantages  had 
been  slight,  but  he  was  a  natural  philosopher.  The 
shady  nooks  of  the  Great  Valley  provided  him  a 
retreat  for  communion  with  nature.  In  his  journey- 
ings  up  and  down  the  verdant  vale  he  thought  great 
thoughts  of  life ;  and  if  he  had  made  no  substantial 
progress  in  solving  its  mysteries,  he  was  at  least  not 
outrivaled  by  the  schoolmen. 

Havard,  at  twenty-five,  was,  of  course  not  as 
mature  mentally  as  was  his  father  at  forty-five;  but 
his  views  upon  general  matters  bore  a  strong  resem- 
blance to  those  of  his  parent.  The  ripening  of  the 
years  was  necessary  to  develop  in  him  the  fullness 
of  the  elder  philosopher,  but  the  beloved  wife  and 
mother  had  often  remarked  to  some  cherished 
friend,  "They  are  as  alike  as  two  peas !" 

As  Mrs.  Brown  preferred  a  quiet  hour  at  home, 
her  son  set  forth  to  church  alone,  riding  his  favorite 
black.  His  route  led  past  Cousin  Samuel  Havard's, 
and  near  the  foot  of  Diamond  Rock,  on  the  North 
Valley  Hill,  which  had  recently  been  bared  of  its 
trees,  its  rugged  gray  masses,  sown  with  crystals, 
dully  reflecting  the  yellow  sunshine,  and  forming  a 
conspicuous  landmark.  Valley  Creek,  tumbling 
saucily  in  its  stony  bed  at  Cedar  Hollow,  occasion- 
ally disclosed  a  piece  of  pure  white  quartz,  and  sang 
a  cheery  strain  of  nature's  roundelay. 

Ascending  a  gentle  elevation,  our  horseman  pur- 
sued his  way  to  Saint  Peter's,  which  was  regarded 
as  a  model  of  ecclesiastical  architecture.  It  was 


26  VALLEY  FORGE 

surrounded  by  shade  trees,  and  from  its  mid-posi- 
tion commanded  a  fine  view  up  and  down  the  Great 
Valley. 

It  was  still  early  in  the  forenoon,  and  not  another 
worshiper  had  arrived — unless,  indeed,  the  sexton 
were  considered  apart  from  his  official  relation  to 
the  edifice,  wherefore  Havard  embraced  the  oppor- 
tunity of  examining  the  obituaries  upon  the  fairly 
numerous  stones  in  the  churchyard. 

One  of  his  former  neighbors  lay  close  by  his  feet. 
Stooping  to  read  the  characters  on  the  stone,  he 
found  the  personal  injunction  that  has  proved  such 
a  universal  favorite  with  mortuary  versifiers : 

"  Remember  Youth  as  you  pass  by, 
As  you  are  now  so  once  v.ras  I 
As  I  am  now  so  must  you  be, 
Prepare  for  Death  and  follow  me." 

The  eulogist  of  another  departed  consolingly  testi- 
fied: 

"  But  tho*  his  Body  is  Laid  in  the  Dust 
His  soul  is  in  Heaven  among  the  Just 
Rejoicing  Joines  that  Heavenly  Choare 
And  Sing  praises  to  God  for  Evermore." 

Havard  mused  long  and  unsuccessfully  upon  the 
meaning  intended  to  be  conveyed  by 

"  Blest  Door  of  Bliss  to  weary  Saints 
Thou  art  grim  Death  because 
Secured  as  in  a  cabinet 
Their  Dust  is  in  the  Tombe — " 

and  though  it  was  scarcely  his  to  indulge  in  literary 
criticism,  he  could  not  but  observe  the  lavish  use 


CUPID  AT  CHURCH  27 

of  italics  and  capitals  by  the  stonecutter  in  another 
attempt  of  the  poet : 

"  My  Race  is  Run,  my  Life  is  done 

And  I  lye  in  the  Ground 
Intomb'd  in  Clay  Until  the  Day 
I  hear  the  Trumpet  Sound." 

Some  of  the  stones  were  so  crude  and  dingy  that 
their  inscriptions  were  undecipherable. 

While  bending  over  one  of  the  latter,  Havard 
became  aware  of  the  flutter  of  a  dainty  dress,  and 
of  the  momentary  hiding  of  the  sun  by  a  passing 
body,  which  cast  a  shadow  on  the  headstone.  Look- 
ing up,  he  saw  a  young  woman  slowly  moving  about 
the  churchyard  and  casually  scanning  the  little  array 
of  grassy  mounds.  She  had  suddenly  turned  the 
corner  of  the  church,  and  had  not  yet  observed  him. 
But  the  next  moment  her  eye  lighted  upon  him, 
whereupon  with  a  slight  start  she  slowly  came 
forward. 

A  glance  at  the  strikingly  pretty  face  of  the  girl 
was  sufficient  to  inform  the  young  man  that  it  was 
not  a  neighbor  who  stood  before  him.  Her  attire 
alone  would  have  indicated  that.  It  did  not  require 
a  second  look  to  determine  that  they  had  met  before, 
and  that  it  was  Miss  Ethel  Thomson,  of  Philadel- 
phia. She  was  first  to  speak  in  recognition  of  the 
meeting,  and  frankly  extended  her  hand,  which 
Havard  took  rather  shyly,  but  appreciatively. 
After  the  exchange  of  a  few  sentences  he  noticed 
two  fine  horses  tethered  in  the  shade  of  a  tree  in 
the  farther  corner  of  the  churchyard,  and  recognized 
a  young  man  who  was  approaching  as  William  Bull. 
3 


28  VALLEY  FORGE 

Mr.  Bull  was  upon  the  point  of  introducing 
Havard  Brown  to  the  young  lady,  when  he  suddenly 
remembered  that  they  were  not  strangers,  and  con- 
fined his  opening  remark  to  a  hearty  salute  of  his 
friend  and  neighbor,  and  an  inquiry  after  his  health 
and  that  of  his  mother. 

Unversed  in  the  precise  etiquette  of  conventional 
urban  society,  Havard  Brown  was,  nevertheless,  a 
gentleman ;  and  his  slightly  grave  manner  favorably 
impressed  the  girl,  who  was  not  at  a  loss  to  discern 
his  unfamiliarity  with  the  easy  usages  of  the  draw- 
ing-room. Her  own  manner  and  words  were  very 
gracious — at  least  so  thought  Havard,  who  was,  to 
tell  the  truth,  just  a  trifle  ill  at  ease.  It  wanted  a 
half  hour  to  the  time  of  service ;  and  as  it  was  fully 
ten  minutes  before  the  approach  of  any  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  parish  the  three  enjoyed  a  chat,  during 
which  Havard  learned  that  Miss  Thomson  was  on 
a  visit  to  both  her  aunt,  Mrs.  John  Bull,  of  near 
the  Swedes'  Ford,  and  her  uncle,  Archibald  Thom- 
son, who  resided  some  distance  above  it,  and,  like 
his  relative,  to  the  east  of  the  river.  As  her  mother 
had  been  an  attendant  upon  the  services  at  Saint 
Peter's,  in  her  own  girlhood,  a  natural  curiosity  to 
see  the  spot  had  induced  her  to  ask  her  cousin  to 
attend  her  to  the  church,  early  enough  to  view  the 
premises  before  the  assembling  of  the  congregation. 

But  the  conversation  soon  turned  to  the  inevitable 
theme  of  the  British  invasion ;  and  Havard  learned 
that  Washington,  who  had  retired  to  Germantown, 
was  already  showing  signs  of  a  march ;  and  that 
stirring  events  were  imminent.  By  this  time  sev- 


CUPID  AT  CHURCH  29 

eral  of  the  regular  worshipers  drew  near,  a  few  on 
foot,  more  on  horses,  while  four  arrived  in  two 
chaises — a  vehicle  for  which  the  road  was  not  well 
adapted.  The  rector,  too,  making  his  appearance, 
there  was  a  general  cessation  of  talk,  and  all  entered 
the  cool  house  of  worship  with  reverent  demeanor, 
and  sat  in  the  high-backed  pews  that  stood  on  the 
brick  floor. 

The  clergyman's  manner  pleased  Havard,  and  he 
attentively  regarded  the  devout  forms  of  the  Church 
of  England  service.  The  sermon  itself  was  brief, 
and  contained  but  little  hint  of  the  trial  that  was 
upon  the  land.  Havacd  wondered  why  the  sympa- 
thies of  the  minister,  who  rarely  preached  nowadays, 
were  on  the  side  of  the  loyalists.  The  time  occupied 
by  the  service  was  not  long,  and  Havard  was  sur- 
prised at  its  close. 

There  was  no  hurried  departure  from  the  church- 
yard, but  friends  freely  greeted  each  other,  and 
inquired  concerning  the  health  and  happiness  of  the 
various  families  represented.  It  was  probably  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  before  the  sociable  group  dis- 
persed, and  the  heads  of  the  horses  were  turned 
toward  home.  Mr.  Bull  insisted  that  Havard  should 
accompany  himself  and  Miss  Thomson  to  his 
father's. 

Havard's  mingled  devout  and  patriotic  medita- 
tions had  suffered  an  intrusion.  His  eyes  rested  at 
intervals  upon  Miss  Thomson's  face,  and  the  con- 
viction grew  that  she  was  a  very  charming  girl. 
Perhaps  for  this  reason,  although  he  demurred  at 
accompanying  the  cousins  to  the  river,  he  evinced 


30  VALLEY  FORGE 

a  willingness  to  escort  them  some  distance  down  the 
Swedes'  Ford  road.  The  party  then  made  for  that 
main  highway,  and  rode  slowly  down  the  center  of 
the  Valley.  The  dust  alone  proved  disagreeable, 
which  led  Havard  to  remark  that  the  signs  indi- 
cated rain. 

"How  unfortunate !"  cried  Miss  Ethel.  "It  will 
spoil  my  visit!" 

But  both  the  young  men  exclaimed,  "The  ground 
needs  it,  it's  very  dry."  And  Havard  added  that 
the  fields  had  been  suffering  for  want  of  moisture 
for  some  time. 

'The  pretty  Ethel  protested  that  the  weather  might 
remain  propitious  a  little  longer  for  her  sake,  with- 
out doing  any  serious  damage,  and  the  wiser  Ha- 
vard tactfully  said  that  he  was  agreed  that  her  wish 
should  be  gratified.  But  Mr.  Bull  vetoed  the  propo- 
sition. 

Past  the  Great  Valley  Presbyterian  Church 
jogged  the  horses ;  down,  past  Mary  Howell's  tav- 
ern a  mile  or  more  to  Walkerville ;  and  there  Ha- 
vard would  have  excused  himself,  but  his  friend 
urged  that  he  go  as  far  as  the  "King,"  at  least. 
As  they  turned  to  the  right,  in  consonance  with  this 
arrangement,  Havard  called  Miss  Thomson's  atten- 
tion to  the  meeting-house  of  the  Baptists  on  the 
slope  of  the  South  Valley  Hill,  and  alluded  to  the 
outspoken  patriotism  of  its  pastor.  His  fair  com- 
panion seemed  to  relish  the  society  of  the  man  who 
was  so  little  of  her  world. 

"Now,"  said  Bull,  as  they  veered  to  the  left, 
"Havard,  you  may  as  well  go  the  whole  way  with 


CUPID  AT  CHURCH  31 

us.  Mother  will  be  glad  to  see  you,  and  we  can  have 
a  pleasant  afternoon.  Ethel  will  enjoy  her  visit  all 
the  better  for  your  company." 

Havard  hesitated,  when  that  young  lady,  who 
appeared  to  consider  that  she  had  been  brought  into 
the  discussion  and  must  take  some  part  in  it, 
remarked  that  it  would  certainly  be  a  pleasure  to 
have  her  cousin's  friend  accompany  them  to  dinner 
— and  this  almost  persuaded  him. 

"Will  not  your  mother  excuse  you,  Mr.  Brown  ?" 
inquired  Miss  Thomson,  who  knew  that  he  and  his 
mother  constituted  the  "family." 

Havard  recollected  his  mother's  unselfish  injunc- 
tion to  accept  an  invitation  to  dinner,  if  one  were 
offered;  then  he  smiled  and  said,  "Yes;  and  she  is 
so  good  that  she  will  probably  be  pleased  to  hear 
of  your  kindness,  but — " 

"Why,  then,"  speedily  responded  both  of  his  com- 
panions, "surely  the  way  is  open  after  that!"  And 
truly  it  must  have  been;  for  under  the  potent 
influence  of  beauty  and  a  musical  voice  Havard 
yielded. 

Two  or  three  miles  more  brought  them  within 
view  of  "The  King  of  Prussia"  inn.  To  the  east- 
ward a  crossroad  led  through  the  Gulph  to  Phila- 
delphia, while  the  same  highway,  continued  west- 
ward, crossed  Valley  Creek  just  below  the  Forge. 
The  site  of  the  hostelry  had  been  wisely  chosen,  and 
it  was  destined  to  a  long  career  of  "accommodation 
for  man  and  beast."  As  it  had  not  yet  completed 
its  first  decade  (it  bore  the  date  "1769")  every- 
thing about  the  premises  wore  a  new  air,  that  proved 


32  VALLEY  FORGE 

attractive  to  up-country  wagoners,  who  flourished 
their  snapping  leather  whips  over  the  heads  of  bell- 
crowned  teams  attached  to  ponderous  "Conestogas." 

The  royal  equestrian  on  the  double  sign  of  the 
"King"  was  also  comparatively  new,  the  gorgeous 
pigments  of  his  apparel  being  as  yet  but  little  faded 
by  the  assaults  of  the  weather.  In  fact,  the  Ger- 
man monarch  wore  the  mien  of  a  conqueror  in  his 
blue  coat,  yellow  breeches  and  cocked  hat.  And  yet 
there  was  a  jauntiness  about  the  style  in  which  he 
sat  the  proud  brown  steed,  with  wondrously  arched 
neck  and  purple  tail,  that  suggested  the  gallant. 

As  the  trio  approached  the  inn  the  loungers  on  its 
porch  found  a  new  topic  in  the  strange  feminine 
traveler.  Ethel  could  not  be  unconscious  of  their 
gaze,  even  if  she  did  not  overhear  their  hurried 
exclamations  and  inquiries.  But  she  affected  to  be 
engaged  in  conversation  with  Havard,  and  thus  ran 
the  disagreeable  gauntlet.  Nor  did  it  occur  to  her 
until  the  next  day,  when  teased  by  her  mischievous 
cousin,  that  one  may  exchange  the  frying  pan 
for  the  fire. 

Will  was  quick  to  perceive  the  success  of  his 
impromptu  scheme  "to  get  Ethel  and  Havard 
together,"  and  laughed  heartily;  but  the  pleasant 
conference  was  momentarily  interrupted  by  the 
approach  on  the  road  from  the  Forge  of  another 
horseman.  As  the  friends  looked  up  they  recog- 
nized Will  Tryon. 

Since  all  three  greeted  the  newcomer  with  the 
usual  courtesy,  it  was  evident  to  Havard  that  Miss 
Thomson  knew  him.  The  gentleman  himself  was 


CUPID  AT  CHURCH  33 

surprised  to  find  Ethel  in  the  neighborhood,  and  to 
observe  that  she  was  acquainted  with  Havard 
Brown. 

Will  it  be  believed  that  something  akin  to  jeal- 
ousy stirred  in  Havard's  heart  as  he  cogitated  upon 
the  significance  of  the  simple  incident  ?  It  is  ridicu- 
lous, of  course,  to  assume  that  he  was  in  love,  and 
just  as  absurd  to  infer  that  he  was  jealous;  yet  a 
queer  influence  controlled  him.  In  harmony  with 
such  perplexing  emotions,  Havard  experienced 
pleasure  in  the  observation  that  Tryon's  presence 
was  not  grateful  to  either  Will  Bull  or  his  cousin. 
He  did  not  know  that  Tryon  had  sought  the  young 
lady's  hand  assiduously,  and  that  he  had  become 
annoying  to  her. 

Tryon  was  heading  for  the  Gulph;  but  would 
gladly  have  changed  his  course  for  the  Swedes' 
Ford  in  association  with  Ethel;  but  the  courtesy 
of  her  cousin  did  not  extend  so  far  as  to  embrace 
an  invitation.  But  he  would  not  have  been  baffled 
by  this  lack  had  he  not  been  so  unwise  as  to  have 
said,  at  the  moment  of  meeting,  that  he  was 
bound  for  the  Gulph.  He  bit  his  lips  as  he  per- 
ceived how  poorly  he  had  played  his  cards,  and 
lost  a  coveted  opportunity. 

As  it  was,  he  was  compelled  to  make  the  best  of 
it,  and  ride  reluctantly  away  to  the  rugged  hills  just 
appearing  above  the  rise  in  the  road  a  little  farther 
on.  And  the  trio,  soberly,  as  became  the  day,  rode 
steadily  down  the  widening  vale,  passing  at  last 
between  a  stone  inn  and  its  barn  to  the  ford.  The 
horses  paused  in  the  swift  stream,  and  eagerly 


34  VALLEY  FORGE 

plunged  their  nostrils  in  the  bright  waters,  before 
completing  their  journey  across  and  upstream  to 
a  mansion  and  estate  where  now  stands  the  pleasant 
borough  of  Norristown. 

The  reception  and  dinner,  and  the  tete-a-tete  of 
the  afternoon  on  the  banks  of  Stony  Creek, 
strangely  affected  Havard  Brown ;  and  although  he 
reproached  himself  for  leaving  his  mother  so  long, 
he  was  still  reluctant  to  bid  such  attractive  scenes 
farewell,  all  of  which  Will  Bull  guessed,  and 
chuckled  over. 

On  his  return  trip  Havard  scarcely  noticed  the 
dense  woodland  on  one  hand,  or  the  arable  fields  on 
the  other;  and  when  he  recounted  the  experiences 
of  the  day  to  his  mother  he  winced  at  the  omission 
of  the  most  important  particulars,  which  he  was  loth 
to  communicate  lest  her  keen  eye  might  detect  a 
cloud  the  size  of  a  woman's  hand. 

The  domestic  work  accomplished,  mother  and  son 
sat  for  a  while  upon  the  southern  porch,  and  watched 
the  shadows  deepen  in  the  glen,  and  heard  the  ves- 
pers of  the  little  creatures  that  gave  tone  to  the 
darkness.  The  stars  were  struggling  into  vision, 
but  a  bland  breeze  from  down  the  river  led  Mrs. 
Brown  to  predict  a  speedy  change  of  weather. 


CHAPTER  IV 
A  BIT  OF  BUFF-AND-BLUE 

ON  Monday  Havard  was  planning  the  consum- 
mation of  a  task  which  would  require  a  brief  absence 
from  home,  when,  as  he  sat  in  the  kitchen,  that 
opened  toward  the  creek,  he  was  aroused  by  a 
knock  at  the  door.  Opening  it,  he  saw  Colonel 
Dewees,  whose  face  was  flushed  and  manner  flur- 
ried, as  he  motioned  Havard  to  the  barnyard, 
where,  under  the  overhanging  floor  of  the  second 
story,  he  whispered  his  communication. 

"I  have  orders  this  morning  about  the  stores, 
Havard ;  a  battle  is  expected  in  two  or  three  days, 
and  we  must  be  prepared  to  take  care  of  all  we  have 
— either  for  immediate  use,  or  in  case  the  gage  goes 
against  us.  I  will  trust  to  your  keeping  an  open 
eye,  and  being  ready,  when  the  time  comes,  to  help 
in  whatever  may  be  necessary." 

Havard  looked  much,  but  said  nothing  more  than 
that  he  would  not  be  found  wanting  at  the  critical 
moment.  The  colonel  interpreted  his  look  of 
inquiry  aright,  and  said :  "I  have  news  that  Wash- 
ington is  on  his  way  up  the  Lancaster  road,  expect- 
ing to  head  off  Howe.  Of  course,  they  must  meet 
somewhere  very  soon,  and  then  we'll  have  a  fight." 

"Do  you  think  the  meeting  '11  be  anywhere  in  this 
part  of  the  county?" 

35 


36  VALLEY  FORGE 

"It's  impossible  to  say,  for  it  all  depends  upon 
where  the  redcoats  are  moving  at  present.  Of 
course,  they're  coming  toward  the  river,  to  try  to 
cross  at  one  of  the  fords,  and  Washington  will  head 
them  on  the  best  ground  he  can  find.  The  general 
must  have  some  reason  to  believe  that  they  are  on 
the  march  over  this  way,  or  he  wouldn't  be  moving 
up  the  Lancaster,  you  see." 

Havard  scratched  his  head  in  perplexity,  and  then 
awkwardly  and  shyly  said,  "Do  you  think  I  could 
be  of  use  in  the  battle  ?" 

The  colonel  intuitively  comprehended  the  case. 
The  young  man  who  was  conscientiously  opposed  to 
violence  and  the  taking  of  life,  entertained  such 
ardent  sentiments  of  duty  to  his  country,  that  at  the 
crisis  he  was  willing  to  put  his  life  in  the  scale. 
Admiring  him  for  his  noble  impulse,  the  colonel 
replied  thoughtfully,  "Havard,  I  think  that,  perhaps, 
it  would  be  better  not  to  enter  into  it,  if  one  comes 
off.  What  you  will  do  afterward  must  depend  upon 
your  best  judgment ;  but  at  present  you  have  your 
mother  to  look  out  for.  Beside,  if  any  of  us  are 
known  to  be  in  the  fight,  and  the  thing  should  go 
the  other  way,  the  whole  settlement  '11  be  burned 
out.  You  know  there  are  some  about  here  that  are 
on  the  watch,  and  nothing's  safe  unless  we  are  very 
careful." 

Havard  was  relieved  by  this  expression  of  the  cool 
judgment  of  his  neighbor,  himself  a  military  man 
and  patriot ;  but  something  like  a  sigh  escaped  him 
as  he  abandoned  the  high  resolve  of  a  minute  before. 

The  colonel  spoke  again :  "I'm  going  over  toward 


A  BIT  OF  BUFF-AND-BLUE  37 

Peggy  Hambleton's  to  scout  a  bit,  and  see  what's 
up ;  do  you  feel  like  riding  over  with  me  ?" 

"Yes,  indeed,  I  will  gladly  go  with  you.  I  will 
tell  mother ;  she's  upstairs  doing  up  the  rooms." 

Mrs.  Brown  discovered  a  spice  of  danger  in  the 
trip,  but  consented  to  Havard's  absence,  "especially 
in  the  company  of  so  experienced  a  man  as  Neigh- 
bor Dewees." 

It  required  but  a  minute  or  two  to  bridle  Saladin, 
and  throw  the  saddle  on  his  back;  then  away  they 
sped  to  cross  the  valley  and  climb  the  southern 
ridge. 

The  news  had  spread  but  meagerly;  besides,  the 
population  of  the  valley  was  sparse;  yet  at  several 
farmhouses  by  the  way  they  found  anxious  faces, 
and  heard  inquiries  for  tidings  of  the  progress  of 
affairs.  The  colonel,  without  disclosing  the  source 
of  his  information,  gave  all  to  understand  that  it  was 
reported  that  Washington  was  on  his  way  west- 
ward, and  thus  kindled  a  flame  of  excitement 
throughout  his  route,  undestined  to  be  speedily  ex- 
tinguished. 

The  two  horsemen  learned  the  real  situation 
before  they  reached  the  summit  of  the  South  Valley 
Hill.  A  party  of  the  Continentals,  under  the  com- 
mand of  Colonel  Theodoric  Bland,  was  exploring 
the  byways  bordering  on  the  Lancaster  road ;  and  a 
detachment  with  which  was  that  active  commander 
of  light  horse,  in  person,  was  carefully  scanning  the 
region  along  the  Swedes'  Ford  road.  The  pair  would 
probably  have  been  subjected  to  an  overhauling 
but  for  the  fact  that  the  two  colonels  were  well 


38  VALLEY  FORGE 

acquainted,  and  the  leader  of  the  cavalry  cordially 
greeted  his  comrade.  After  supplying  considerable 
information  relative  to  the  country,  the  intersection 
of  various  leading  roads,  the  fords,  etc.,  Colonel 
Dewees  and  Havard  pressed  on  over  the  road  by 
which  the  light  horse  had  come  down  into  the  val- 
ley, and  as  they  turned  the  corner  where  stood  the 
catalpas  they  met  another  squadron  of  the  advance, 
which  was  followed  closely  by  Maxwell's  light 
infantry. 

Next  there  appeared  a  brigade  in  which  Havard 
proved  particularly  interested.  It  was  the  Penn- 
sylvania Line,  and  at  its  head  rode  the  redoubtable 
Wayne,  whose  birthplace  was  scarcely  two  miles 
westward  of  the  spot.  This  beau  ideal  of  a 
military  officer  halted  as  he  recognized  Havard's 
companion,  and  when  the  young  man  was  intro- 
duced to  him  courteously  saluted  him,  and  alluded 
to  the  fact  that  they  had  been  fairly  acquainted 
before  the  opening  of  the  war. 

Wayne's  every  movement  indicated  the  dashing 
general;  his  brilliant  eye  swept  the  region  about 
him  restlessly  during  the  brief  conversation  that 
ensued,  and  he  seemed  to  be  anxious  to  get  at  the 
enemy. 

"I  tell  you,  Dewees,"  he  said,  as  he  caught  up 
the  reins  to  press  on,  "if  those  scouts  had  only 
attended  to  their  duty  down  on  the  Brandywine, 
we'd  'a'  had  the  day.  We  pummeled  'em  right  and 
left  at  Chadd's,  and  we  could  have  easily  finished 
'em  if  we'd  gone  over  in  force,  as  the  general 
intended.  But  we'll  have  'em  yet,  see  if  we  don't." 


A  BIT  OF  BUFF-AND-BLUE  39 

Havard  scanned  the  ranks  for  familiar  faces ;  nor 
did  he  look  in  vain,  for  presently  he  saw  Hampton 
and  Wersler,  Buzzard  and  Rapp,  Mattson  and  Bean, 
and  others.of  the  vicinity  who  had  obeyed  Wayne's 
flaming  summons  to  defend  their  country.  He  could 
hardly  tell  how  he  felt,  as  he  gazed  upon  these  ill- 
clad  patriots  marching  with  eager  step,  despite  the 
defeat  of  a  few  days  previous.  His  soul  was  stirred 
to  its  depths,  and  he  was  unable  to  speak;  but  in 
his  tear-stained  face,  twitching  with  an  agitation 
that  he  could  not  conceal,  his  soldier  friends  read 
his  sympathy  and  admiration. 

Another  cloud  of  dust  heralded  the  approach  of 
the  Virginians  under  Muhlenberg  and  Weedon. 
Havard  was  fortunate  in  his  association  with  the 
colonel;  for  the  latter  knew  all  the  general  officers 
and  not  a  few  of  the  regimental  commanders,  and 
was  able  to  anticipate  his  inquiries.  Although  the 
former  brigadier  had  been  in  a  sense  a  neighbor, 
Havard  had  never  met  him;  and  the  romance  of 
his  espousal  of  the  colonial  cause  made  him  an  object 
of  interest.  It  was  at  the  Trappe,  not  more  than  a 
dozen  miles  distant,  that  this  clergyman  was  born; 
but  it  was  in  a  Virginia  parish  that  he  electrified 
his  congregation  by  a  martial  sermon,  after  which, 
throwing  back  the  gown  of  his  sacred  office,  and  dis- 
closing a  Continental  uniform  and  sword,  he  called 
upon  his  hearers  to  enlist  in  the  cause  of  freedom. 

Procter's  artillery — or  what  was  left  of  it — 
possessed  a  curious  fascination  for  Havard.  The 
grim  thunderers  of  battle  rolled  heavily  along  in 
the  company  of  wagons  laden  with  ammunition  and 


4O  VALLEY  FORGE 

other  stores.  Following  this  important  arm  of  the 
service  appeared  several  officers  that  Havard  sus- 
pected of  being  of  the  highest  rank.  At  this  time 
the  colonel  and  Havard  were  posted  in  a  lane  lead- 
ing south  of  the  highway  near  Squire  Henny  Bell's ; 
but  there  was  quite  an  air  of  excitement  mingled 
with  a  forward  movement  upon  the  part  of  the 
colonel  as  he  surveyed  the  distinguished  group. 
"Hist,"  he  said  to  Havard,  in  a  low  whisper,  "that's 
the  commander-in-chief ;  Armstrong's  on  one  side, 
and  Greene's  on  the  other." 

But  with  the  colonel's  desire  to  advance  was  also 
exhibited  a  diffidence,  in  which  Havard  fully  shared. 
When  the  generals  approached,  riding  a  little  in 
advance  of  the  various  aids,  Dewees  removed  his 
hat,  in  respect  to  the  general-in-chief.  Immediately 
the  central  figure,  tall,  stately,  and  riding  his  horse 
with  consummate  ease,  responded. 

In  a  moment  the  general  recognized  the  man  who 
saluted  him  by  the  wayside,  and,  pausing,  beckoned 
him  to  his  side,  and  closely  questioned  him  in  an 
undertone  regarding  the  accumulation  of  stores  at 
the  Valley  Forge.  What  passed  was  unknown  to 
Havard;  it  was  some  minutes  before  Dewees 
returned  to  him,  after  riding  with  the  commander 
up  the  road. 

The  little  army  occupied  a  considerable  while  in 
passing  the  viewpoint  of  our  horsemen.  The  road 
was  narrow,  and  the  men  marched  four  abreast, 
with  distinct  intervals  between  the  brigades.  Who 
could  surmise  what  was  before  them,  either  on  the 
present  day  or  on  the  morrow ! 


A  BIT  OF  BUFF-AND-BLUE  41 

The  colonel  and  Havard  found  their  way  down 
the  abrupt  ridge  by  way  of  the  Church  road  through 
Walkerville  to  their  home.  As  they  were  passing 
the  Baptist  meeting-house,  a  log  structure  less  than 
thirty  feet  square  that  stood  on  the  west  side  of  the 
road — the  graveyard  being  across  the  way — Dewees 
remarked  that  Davy  Jones  looked  well  to-day  on 
his  big  gray,  and  that  it  was  rarely  that  a  combin- 
ation of  preacher  and  soldier  could  be  found  in  the 
same  person ;  but  that  when  Jones  was  pastor  of  the 
church  they  had  just  left  behind  them,  he  declared 
that  he  was  a  member  of  the  church  militant,  and 
expected  to  fight  when  the  time  came. 

Soon  they  crossed  a  little  brook  called  by  the 
Welsh  settlers  "Nant  yr  Ewig" ;  and  when  Havard 
mentioned  this  to  his  companion  the  latter  reminded 
him  that  the  township  also  bore  a  Welsh  name, 
"Tre-yr-Duffryn,"  or  "Tredynrin"— "Tre,"  or 
"Tref,"  standing  for  "town"  or  "township,"  and 
"Dyffrin"  for  "broad,  cultivated  valley." 

Before  separating,  the  colonel  recalled  the  matter 
of  the  stores,  and  again  requested  Havard  to  be 
ready  for  instant  service. 

It  was  but  a  fitful  slumber  that  fell  to  the  lot  of 
either  mother  or  son  that  night;  and  the  leaden 
clouds  that  settled  about  the  horizon  when  the  sun 
went  down,  increasing  the  ordinary  gloom  in  the 
recesses  of  Valley  Creek,  might  have  been  regarded 
by  a  superstitious  mind  as  an  augury  of  misfortune 
and  disaster;  and  when  Tuesday  was  added  to  the 
calendar,  the  dull  skies  spoke  no  word  of  comfort 
to  the  hearts  that  were  beating  with  anxiety. 


42  VALLEY  FORGE 

The  warm  breath  of  the  previous  day  had  van- 
ished, and  the  air  was  saturated  with  moisture. 
For  want  of  appetite  breakfast  was  late,  and  yet  it 
was  so  dark  in  the  usually  bright  kitchen  that  the 
time  seemed  two  hours  earlier. 

Havard  attempted  nothing  more  than  imperative 
attentions  to  the  stock.  An  uneasy  feeling  was  con- 
suming him — a  desire  to  witness,  if  not,  indeed, 
participate  in,  the  events  of  the  day.  In  fact,  he  was 
debating  the  propriety  of  leaving  his  mother  to  the 
care  of  the  boy  in  order  to  hover  near  the  crisal 
spot,  but  filial  fondness  conquered.  Long  before  it 
was  light  his  companion  of  the  previous  day  had  dis- 
appeared from  the  vicinity  of  the  Forge,  his  absence 
being  known  only  to  a  trusty  employee,  for  fear 
of  complications  where  unfriendly  eyes  were  ever 
on  guard. 

A  bright  thought  struck  Havard  ere  long.  Mount 
Joy — why  not  climb  it  and  obtain  a  view  of  the 
valley?  It  might  be  that  nothing  could  be  discerned, 
after  all,  but  it  would  be  worth  the  effort  to  obtain 
satisfaction.  There  was  his  father's  spyglass,  which 
would  show  much  more  than  the  unaided  eye  could 
hope  to  view. 

It  was  in  truth  a  poor  atmosphere  through  which 
to  gaze  at  distant  objects,  but  by  dint  of  patient 
looking  Havard  succeeded  in  making  out  moving 
masses  on  the  hills  beyond  the  "Admiral  Warren," 
a  tavern  that  stood  near  the  junction  of  the  Lan- 
caster and  Long  Ford  roads.  There  was  every 
reason  to  believe  that  these  were  the  Continentals ; 
and  it  was  certain  that  no  combat  was  in  progress, 


A  BIT  OF  BUFF-AND-BLUE  43 

there  being  an  absence  of  smoke  and  of  the  sounds 
of  battle. 

If  Havard  could  have  likewise  swept  the  region 
south  of  the  Valley  with  his  telescope  he  would  have 
discovered  the  forward  movement  of  the  British.  Up 
the  Chester  road  from  the  "Seven  Stars"  came 
Cornwallis's  division,  ripe  for  what  might  prove  a 
decisive  encounter.  The  victory  of  Brandywine 
elated  the  English  troops  and  their  Hessian  mercen- 
aries, and  nerved  them  for  the  approaching  battle, 
when  they  would  be  unhampered  by  any  stream  of 
which  the  enemy  could  take  advantage. 

The  various  forces  under  the  British  general's 
command  were  skillfully  handled.  Knyphausen,  who 
had  so  long  amused  the  Americans  at  Chadd's  Ford, 
while  Howe  and  Cornwallis  swiftly  moved  upon  a 
circuitous  flanking  route,  advanced  through  the 
embryo  village  of  West  Chester,  passing  the  "Turk's 
Head."  There  some  resentful  civilian,  burning  with 
the  recollection  of  the  disastrous  day  at  Birming- 
ham, sped  a  brace  of  bullets  on  an  errand  of  revenge, 
and  two  soldiers  fell. 

General  Matthews  proceeded  to  the  vicinity  of 
the  "Indian  King,"  encamping  on  the  farm  of  David 
Dunwoody,  overlooking  the  Great  Valley.  Donop, 
at  the  head  of  his  Hessians,  arrived  by  way  of  the 
"Boot,"  near  the  "Ship"  tavern,  while  near  the 
"Three  Tuns"  the  other  wing  of  the  redcoats  pre- 
pared for  battle. 

Washington  selected  for  his  headquarters  the 
house  of  Joseph  Malin,  his  forces  being  encamped 
between  the  "Admiral  Warren"  and  the  "White 


44  VALLEY  FORGE 

Horse"  taverns.  The  lesson  of  the  Brandywine  had 
been  salutary,  and  the  pickets  were  now  disposed 
with  unusual  care.  Every  road  was  rigorously 
guarded,  and  the  utmost  precaution  taken  to  prevent 
a  surprise. 

Wayne,  to  whom  the  ground  was  familiar,  had 
been  selected  to  lead  in  the  fast  approaching 
encounter.  Washington  reposed  high  trust  in  his 
lieutenant,  who  reciprocated  the  feeling  by  an  ardent 
reliance  upon  the  wisdom  and  skill  of  his  com- 
mander. The  dashing  but  prudent  brigadier  cast 
uneasy  glances  at  the  clouds,  and  chafed  because 
the  attack  could  not  be  made  immediately. 

At  last,  near  the  Goshen  meeting-house,  the 
crackle  of  musketry  announced  that  the  skirmishers 
were  intent  upon  their  work.  It  was  only  feeling 
the  way  toward  a  general  engagement,  but  a  dozen 
Americans  found  graves  there. 

Donop's  men  came  into  play  on  the  Meredith 
farm,  and  several  of  the  troops  on  both  sides  were 
killed  or  wounded.  The  high  ground  south  of  the 
Valley  became  the  theater  of  action,  and  each  com- 
mander arrayed  his  army  for  the  clash.  As  the 
critical  moment  drew  near  the  elements  interposed. 

It  was  a  rich  agricultural  country  in  which  the 
rival  armies  were  about  to  contend  for  the  mastery. 
The  wheat  had  long  since  been  garnered,  but  well 
set  grass  was  occupying  its  place.  Fields  of  tall 
Indian  corn  were  seen  on  every  hand,  the  stalks 
a  little  withered  from  the  advance  of  the  season 
and  the  lack  of  rain,  and  concealed  beneath  them 
were  yellow  pumpkins  in  profusion.  The  plenti- 


A  BIT  OF  BUFF-AND-BLUE  45 

ful  woodland  was  burdened  with  foliage,  to  which 
the  dense  moisture  of  the  morning  seemed  to  impart 
new  life  and  freshness. 

The  lowering  skies  began  to  weep.  The  wind 
that  blew  softly  at  first  soon  gathered  strength,  and 
gusts  swept  down  upon  the  devoted  heads  of  the 
waiting  combatants.  The  porous,  ruddy  soil  speedily 
succumbed  to  the  watery  wooing  of  the  clouds, 
and  the  roads  became  a  puddle,  every  impression, 
whether  of  the  human  foot  or  of  a  horse's  hoof, 
being  speedily  filled  with  yellow  water.  The  clover 
fields  were  so  wet  that  the  shoes  of  the  soldiers  were 
literally  soaked,  while  from  their  headgear,  mus- 
taches, beards,  noses,  and  eyelids  little  streams  ran 
down  upon  weapons  that  could  not  be  protected. 
The  stalks  of  corn  looked  bedraggled,  but  not  more 
so  than  the  respective  followers  of  Howe  and 
Washington. 

Woodland  and  clearing,  road  and  field,  fared 
alike.  The  water  not  merely  dripped,  but  ran  off 
tree  and  fence  to  the  thirsty  ground.  The  whish  of 
the  wind  produced  mournful  notes  in  the  forest ;  and 
here  and  there,  under  the  rapidly  increasing  strength 
of  the  blast,  trees  were  uprooted  and  thrown  to  the 
ground. 

The  aggressive  Wayne  made  a  personal  inspec- 
tion of  the  condition  of  things.  The  hillside  was 
slippery,  the  mire  deepening.  What  if  the  British 
should  make  an  advance  under  such  circumstances? 
The  prospect  was  not  reassuring,  the  general  fear- 
ing that  Procter  would  lose  his  artillery  if  attacked. 
Worst  of  all,  the  ammunition  was  almost  spoiled. 


46  VALLEY  FORGE 

The  situation  was  truly  critical.  If  an  attack 
should  be  made  by  Howe,  there  could  be  little 
practical  resistance.  Washington  recognized  the 
embarrassment,  and  gave  orders  to  change  position, 
gradually  withdrawing  to  the  high  hills  in  the  rear 
of  the  "White  Horse." 

The  hours  wore  on  monotonously  until  four  in 
the  afternoon.  The  storm  did  not  abate.  It  was 
clearly  that  disturbance  of  the  elements  which  popu- 
lar belief  confidently  ascribes,  although  without  war- 
rant, to  the  occurrence  of  the  equinox,  which  was 
then  close  at  hand.  The  Valley  was  flooded,  the 
small  streams  it  fostered  having  overflowed  their 
banks ;  and  sheets  of  rain  concealed  all  but  a  small 
portion  of  it  from  the  view  of  those  who  sought  to 
penetrate  its  disguises. 

Thereupon  Washington  gave  the  order  to  retire 
to  the  vicinity  of  the  Yellow  Springs,  a  group  of 
waters  slightly  impregnated  with  minerals.  It  was 
a  dreary  march  filled  with  discomfort,  and  the  night 
brought  no  mitigation.  In  the  morning  the  alarm- 
ing discovery  was  made  that  not  only  was  the  supply 
of  powder  ruined,  but  that  most  of  the  gunlocks 
refused  to  perform  their  office;  and  so  another 
march  was  undertaken  to  the  furnace  among  the 
Warwick  hills,  where  cannon  had  been  cast  for  the 
army,  and  there  some  sort  of  replenishment  in 
ammunition  and  arms  was  had. 

None  of  these  things,  however,  became  known  to 
Havard  Brown,  in  his  tree,  because  very  soon  after 
he  took  possession  of  his  observatory  the  mist  and 
rain  hid  the  entire  panorama  from  view. 


CHAPTER   V 
A  DIPLOMATIC  DAY 

IN  spite  of  the  weather,  the  British  effected  their 
change  of  base,  constantly  getting  nearer  the  region 
of  the  Forge ;  and  on  Thursday  all  doubts  as  to  their 
intentions  were  removed  by  the  disposition  of  their 
forces  along  the  Swedes'  Ford  road,  the  encamp- 
ment resting  on  the  southern  rim  of  the  Valley. 

It  was  an  imposing  spectacle,  to  behold  the 
column  of  veteran  soldiers  marching  with  precision 
on  the  floor  of  the  charming  vale,  now  washed  from 
its  dust  and  fresh  as  a  rose  garden.  Light  intrench- 
ments  were  constructed  at  various  points,  and 
the  available  houses  in  the  vicinity  were  impressed 
into  service  as  headquarters  for  the  general  officers. 

The  incursion  was  readily  viewable  from  Havard 
Brown's  improvised  observatory  on  Mount  Joy; 
but  there  were  some  elevations  on  the  other  side 
of  Valley  Creek  that  furnished  a  viewpoint  less 
tedious  to  attain  by  the  feminine  members  of  the 
various  households,  and  some  of  these  fair  ladies 
almost  forgot  possible  peril  in  the  splendor  of  the 
scene  upon  which  the  sun  was  again  gracious 
enough  to  shine. 

The  staid  farmers  above  Walkerville  were  under- 
going experiences  of  which  they  would  fain  have 
been  relieved.  Abel  Reese  was  summoned  from 

47 


48  VALLEY  FORGE 

the  cellar,  where  he  was  constructing  a  potato 
bin,  to  meet  a  short,  stout  man  in  a  general's  uni- 
form, who  announced  himself  as  the  Earl  Corn- 
wallis.  The  sturdy  tiller  of  the  soil  could  not  have 
conjured  up  a  more  unwelcome  personage;  still, 
the  appearance  of  the  dreaded  officer  was  prepos- 
sessing. His  face  was  attractive,  and  a  slight  gray- 
ish tinge  of  his  hair  invested  it  with  a  benevolent 
aspect.  His  manners  were  those  of  a  perfect  gentle- 
man, and  tended  to  relieve  the  family  of  their  fears. 
The  earl  deprecated  the  fortunes  of  war,  which  com- 
pelled him  to  request  the  use  of  the  farmhouse 
as  his  personal  headquarters  for  a  while — "not  very 
long/'  he  said  with  a  smile,  which  the  worthy 
farmer  did  not  comprehend;  but  the  titled  soldier 
was  indulging  in  a  dream  of  a  more  congenial  resi- 
dence in  the  City  of  Brotherly  Love  at  an  early 
day. 

At  the  James  Jones  homestead,  a  half  mile  or 
more  to  the  east,  Knyphausen  politely  took  posses- 
sion. The  medium-sized,  slender,  straight  German 
had  sharp  features,  but  his  manners  were  affable. 
Yet  the  tidy  housewife  was  amazed  to  see  this 
soldier  of  high  rank  spread  butter  with  his  thumb- 
nail! 

The  same  day  also  introduced  a  company  of 
officers  to  the  yard  in  front  of  the  Samuel  Jones  ' 
residence,  a  field  or  two  west  of  that  of  James  Jones. 
In  the  background  was  a  tall  figure  some  six  feet  in 
height,  well  proportioned,  and  bearing  a  slight 
resemblance  to  that  of  the  commander  of  the  Con- 
tinental army.  It  was  quite  a  coincidence,  for  the 


A  DIPLOMATIC  DAY  49 

personage  was  none  other  than  Sir  William  Howe, 
who,  when  the  notice  of  appropriation  had  been 
served  by  his  aid,  came  forward,  to  acknowledge 
"the  courtesy  of  the  family." 

The  encampment  extended  from  the  Baptist 
meeting-house  to  a  point  above  Mary  Howell's,  and 
when  the  timidity  of  the  Valley  folk  was  some- 
what spent  they  sallied  forth  to  see  the  unique 
spectacle.  The  few  grist-mills  of  the  vicinity  were 
at  once  pressed  into  service  by  the  conquerors; 
among  these  was  one  on  the  Joseph  Walker  place. 

Where  was  the  American  army?  Should  the 
British  have  undisputed  possession  of  the  Great 
Valley,  with  access  to  Philadelphia?  The  larger 
part  of  Washington's  force  was  guarding  the  fords 
of  the  Schuylkill;  Smallwood  lay  at  the  "White 
Horse" ;  and  Wayne,  with  some  fifteen  hundred  men 
and  four  cannon,  was  watching  the  enemy.  It 
was  supposed  that  at  the  first  opportunity  Howe 
would  seek  to  slip  across  the  river  and  enter  Phila- 
delphia, and  Wayne  expected  to  strike  his  rear 
divisions  while  on  the  march.  One  of  the  spies  of 
the  latter  brought  him  word  that  this  movement 
would  come  off  on  the  morning  of  the  twenty-first 
at  two  o'clock,  and  Wayne  sent  a  messenger  to 
Smallwood  directing  him  to  join  him,  with  a  view 
of  making  the  desired  attack.  "Mad  Anthony"  had 
been  within  a  half  mile  of  the  enemy's  camp  restless 
to  strike ;  but,  while  the  redcoats  were  cooking,  and 
washing  their  clothes,  they  were  in  decidedly  too 
great  numbers  safely  to  admit  of  an  engagement. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  of  the  twentieth  Havard 


50  VALLEY  FORGE 

Brown  approached  Knyphausen's  lines  in  a  rude 
conveyance  containing  a  large  cask.  Stopped  by 
the  picket,  he  smiled,  pointed  to  the  cask,  and 
uttered  the  single  word  "Sauerkraut !" 

It  was  the  "open  sesame"  of  AH  Baba,  and  in  a 
trice  the  young  man  was  admitted,  and  surrounded 
by  eager  purchasers  of  the  autumnal  delicacy.  The 
delighted  Hessians  wondered  at  the  unusually  early 
preparation  of  their  favorite  viand,  and  counted 
themselves  happy  to  taste  the  new  cabbage  of  the 
season.  Some  of  their  exclamations  of  pleasure 
were  more  forcible  than  reverent.  The  vendor  felt 
it  his  duty  to  remonstrate  with  his  rough  custom- 
ers, who  looked  fierce  in  their  plaited  hair  and  hel- 
mets; and  this  resulted  in  a  wordy  war,  in  which 
the  theme  changed  to  the  questions  at  issue  between 
the  Colonies  and  the  mother  country.  "Ach !"  said 
the  best  linguist  among  them,  "we  beats  de  Yankees 
odder  day,  and  drives  dem  away,  so  dat  dey  don't 
come  back  again.  But  all  de  same  dere's  some  of 
dem  not  fery  far  away,  and  dey'll  get  in  trouble 
soon  enough." 

The  single  disputant  on  the  other  side  appeared 
to  pay  but  slight  attention  to  this  remark,  and  to 
be  absorbed  in  the  disposal  of  his  vegetable  com- 
modity :  yet  his  response  was  such  as  to  still  further 
arouse  his  loquacious  purchaser,  who  slowly  shut 
one  eye,  looked  very  knowing,  and  continued  sig- 
nificantly, "Wait  till  to-night,  I  dells  you:  dere'll 
be  trouble  ahead.  You  see  if  dere  won't !" 

If  any  curious  eye  was  turned  upon  the  farmer 
when  he  left  the  camp,  it  observed  him  lethargically 


A  DIPLOMATIC  DAY  51 

driving  up  the  Swedes'  Ford  road  to  the  cross- 
road leading  to  Saint  Peter's,  in  which  secluded 
locality  the  easy-going  driver  discovered  a  dell, 
where,  out  of  the  view  of  any  person  who  might  be 
traveling  the  road,  he  secured  his  ancient  horse, 
and  disappeared  in  the  woods. 

Two  hours  later  a  man  in  his  prime  made  his  way 
into  the  encampment  of  Wayne,  and  was  at  once 
ushered  into  the  presence  of  the  Pennsylvania  briga- 
dier. 

The  American  troops  detached  to  watch  and 
harass  the  British  rear  were  posted  in  a  coppice 
two  miles  west  of  the  "Paoli"  inn.  The  utmost 
caution  had  been  observed  to  conceal  the  encamp- 
ment, for  the  service  was  perilous,  in  view  of  the 
great  numerical  superiority  of  the  enemy.  The 
place  chosen  was  on  a  bit  of  table-land  some 
distance  from  the  road. 

An  unusual  quiet  prevailed  in  the  camp,  the  result 
of  stringent  orders.  The  men  were  lounging  about 
under  the  trees,  talking  in  low  tones ;  and  the  gen- 
eral was  satisfied  that  entire  success  had  attended 
his  effort  to  preserve  secrecy. 

"Hello,  Dewees,"  exclaimed  General  Wayne, 
"how  did  you  get  through  the  lines?" 

The  colonel  saluted,  and  replied,  "Well,  general, 
it  wasn't  the  easiest  thing,  I  can  tell  you;  but  as 
luck  would  have  it  I  managed  to  slip  by  the  picket 
in  the  woods  above  the  Warren.  It  doesn't  often 
happen  that  one  gets  so  good  a  chance." 

"Did  you  see  anything  of  Grey's  men  as  you 
came  through  ?" 


52  VALLEY  FORGE 

"Not  to-day,  but  I  got  a  good  squint  at  them 
yesterday  afternoon ;  but  I've  been  in  Knyphausen's 
camp  to-day — by  proxy." 

The  response  of  the  general  expressed  astonish- 
ment; and  he  commented,  "You  and  your  proxies 
will  get  your  necks  stretched  one  of  these  days,  if 
you  don't  take  care." 

But,  continuing  in  the  surprised  tone  of  his 
ejaculation,  he  inquired,  "How  did  your  proxy  get 
into  their  camp?" 

Dewees  laughed  and  replied :  "Havard  Brown 
went  to  sell  the  Deutschers  some  sauerkraut;  I 
knew  they  couldn't  resist  that.  We  had  to  be  in  a 
mighty  hurry  to  pound  it,  though,  and  it  wasn't 
anything  like  stale  enough." 

The  general  looked  grave.  "Dewees,"  he  said 
at  length,  "you  and  that  young  fellow — he's  a  pretty 
likely  one,  by  the  way,  I  think — are  running  a  big 
risk.  Take  care  of  yourselves,  or  else  you'll  dangle 
in  the  air  from  the  end  of  an  oak  limb.  But  tell 
me,  what  did  you  gather?  What  do  you  know  of 
the  disposition  of  the  British  army?" 

The  colonel  seized  a  pencil  and  piece  of  paper, 
and  roughly  sketched  the  Hessian  encampment, 
locating  the  earthworks  and  pickets,  the  headquar- 
ters of  each  division  commander,  and  the  general 
arrangement  of  the  British  forces.  He  gave  a 
pretty  accurate  estimate  of  their  strength,  and  in 
short  acquainted  Wayne  with  about  all  the  informa- 
tion that  could  possibly  be  accumulated  by  obser- 
vation. 

The  general  was  accordingly  grateful,  and  said 


A  DIPLOMATIC  DAY  53 

with  spirit,  "Colonel,  I  think  we  have  them;  they 
don't  know  we're  in  the  neighborhood,  and  to-mor- 
row when  they  move,  as  I  expect,  I'll  strike  them." 

"General,  I'm  sorry  to  say  they  do  know  where 
you  are;  and  I've  come  on  purpose  to  warn  you 
to  be  lynx-eyed." 

The  general  seemed  disconcerted.  He  was  dis- 
posed to  pooh-pooh  Dewees's  warning  communica- 
tion, but  he  recollected  that  there  was  no  more 
trusty  scout,  and  that  he  enjoyed  the  favor  of 
Washington  himself.  After  a  moment's  reflection 
he  inquired  of  the  colonel  upon  what  he  based  his 
conclusions.  Then  his  informant  explained  the 
circumstances  of  Brown's  visit  to  Knyphausen's 
camp,  his  encounter  with  his  garrulous  Hessian 
customers  and  the  telltale  sentences  that  leaked  out 
in  the  discussion. 

Wayne's  countenance  now  wore  a  grave  expres- 
sion, and  sending  for  an  aid,  he  gave  orders  to 
exercise  redoubled  vigilance.  He  directed  that 
additional  pickets  and  sentinels  be  stationed  well 
out,  and  patrols  pushed  forward  on  the  roads  com- 
ing from  the  Valley. 

Purposing  putting  additional  cautionary  arrange- 
ments into  effect  when  night  should  ensue,  the 
general  turned  his  attention  to  Dewees  once  more, 
and  inquired,  "By  the  way,  Colonel,  what  are  you 
doing  about  your  stores  over  there?" 

"Well,  up  to  within  a  week  I  had  been  feeling 
that  all  was  right,  but  something's  got  into  my  bones 
that  we  are  under  suspicion,  and  I'm  uneasy.  Of 
course  I  shall  keep  a  sharp  eye  on  the  reds;  for  if 


54  VALLEY  FORGE 

they  get  scent  of  the  stores,  and  mix  me  up  in  it, 
I'm  done  for — they'll  clean  out  the  place." 

For  some  time  the  two  patriots  discussed  the 
situation,  but  at  length  Dewees  arose,  and,  saluting, 
said,  "General,  I'll  have  to  be  going.  Pardon  me 
for  the  remark,  but  I  feel  as  though  you  are  in  great 
peril;  I  am  almost  satisfied  that  to-night  will  bring 
an  attack." 

"Thank  you,  Dewees,  for  your  kindness.  I  hope 
it  isn't  so  bad,  but  of  course  I'll  be  on  the  lookout. 
To-night  I  shall  set  a  strong  picket  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  if  they  come  they'll  get  a  hot  reception. 
I  think  I  can  take  care  of  my  men  even  if  we  get 
whipped;  for  all  the  country  around  here  is  home, 
you  know." 

"Yes,  I'm  sure  if  anyone  can  keep  the  British  at 
their  distance  you  will.  What  I  fear  is  that  some 
Tory  in  the  neighborhood  keeps  Howe  informed  of 
what's  going  on  and  where  you  are.  If  that's  the 
case  it'll  operate  against  your  own  familiarity  with 
the  locality.  All  those  rascals  know  where  Waynes- 
borough  is,  and  I  have  feared  more  than  once  that 
they'll  try  to  nab  you  there." 

"Never  cook  a  hare  till  you  catch  him,  Dewees," 
good-humoredly  replied  the  general,  "but  at  all 
events  I'll  look  out  carefully." 

Wayne  grasped  his  guest  cordially  by  the  hand 
and  bade  him  farewell,  and  soon  the  colonel  was 
pressing  his  way  among  the  thick  chestnuts  toward 
the  dell  where  Brown  had  left  his  horse  and  wagon. 
He  succeeded  in  evading  the  British  sentinel  as 
dexterously  as  a  few  hours  before,  and  in  due  time 


A  DIPLOMATIC  DAY  55 

he  worked  his  way  to  the  spot  where  the  young  man 
was  awaiting  him.  Then  both  approached  the  place 
where  the  patient  horse  awaited  the  return  of  its 
master.  They  cast  many  a  glance  around,  feeling 
more  apprehensive  now  than  at  any  other  time. 
Nor  was  their  caution  ill-timed,  for  as  they  neared 
the  vehicle  they  observed  a  man  peering  into  the 
empty  cask. 

The  colonel,  who  was  naturally  the  leader,  per- 
ceived that  it  was  a  person  in  civilian's  dress  who 
was  thus  making  free.  Whether  to  advance  or 
remain  hidden  was  the  problem  he  now  sought  to 
solve.  It  might  prove  dangerous  to  reveal  them- 
selves ;  and,  what  was  of  more  importance  still,  the 
military  plans  might  be  frustrated  by  an  imprudent 
revelation.  He  concluded  to  try  the  mettle  of  the 
intruder  by  a  feint. 

But  as  he  took  a  step  in  this  direction  the  attentive 
ear  of  the  stranger  caught  the  movement,  and  with- 
out stopping  to  see  who  the  person  might  be  he 
scurried  away. 

Only  once,  as  the  man  turned  slightly  to  avoid  an 
obstruction  in  his  path,  did  Dewees  catch  a  glimpse 
of  him.  "Why,"  he  whispered  to  Brown,  "that's 
Will  Tyron,  sure  as  I'm  alive." 

Havard  led  his  beast  out  of  its  retreat  into  the 
road,  descended  into  Cedar  Hollow,  climbed  slowly 
up  the  North  Valley  Hill  in  a  depression  close  to 
Diamond  Rock,  turned  eastward  over  a  secluded 
road  where  excavations  had  been  made  for  stone 
and  gravel,  and,  passing  a  number  of  charcoal  pits, 
wended  his  way  toward  the  Forge. 


56  VALLEY  FORGE 

Threatening  clouds  urged  the  comrades  forward 
along  the  rocky,  rude  wood  road  to  the  Valley 
Creek ;  but  the  superannuated  horse,  which  had  been 
chosen  for  the  day's  service  to  avoid  suspicion, 
stumbled  painfully  among  the  ruts  and  rocks.  It 
was  almost  dusk,  and  the  travelers  had  barely 
escaped  the  breaking  of  a  storm,  when  they  reached 
home. 


CHAPTER  VI 
A  SCREED  OF  SCARLET 

IT  was  the  evening  of  Saturday,  the  twentieth 
of  September.  The  slowly  deepening  blue  sky 
became  suddenly  overcast,  and  black  clouds  raced 
with  fearful  velocity  down  the  Great  Valley.  An 
ominous  white  edging  attended  them ;  and  the  whir 
of  the  wind  was  heard  in  the  tree-tops  that  lined 
the  rim  of  the  vale.  A  lurid  light  enveloped  all 
objects,  causing  uneasiness  to  beholders,  while  the 
roll  of  thunder  swept  hill  and  plain.  The  blue  hills 
across  the  Schuylkill  were  speedily  obliterated  from 
the  panorama,  and  a  violent  storm  raged  down  that 
sinuous  stream.  Trees  were  uprooted  in  its  major 
course,  while  their  congeners  on  the  Tredyffrin  hills 
trembled,  and  paid  tribute  in  the  shape  of  innumer- 
able twisted  limbs  and  branches.  Very  little  rain 
fell — perhaps  but  a  few  drops — but  the  majesty  of 
the  tempest  made  itself  felt  in  both  the  British  camp 
and  that  of  its  adversary. 

General  Wayne,  more  impressed  with  the  prophe- 
cies of  Colonel  Dewees  than  he  was  willing  to 
admit,  made  thorough  preparations  for  repelling 
an  hypothetical  attack.  Several  new  pickets  were 
established,  and  a  number  of  videttes  were  sent 
out  to  watch  jealously  the  slightest  movement  of 
the  enemy. 

57 


58  VALLEY  FORGE 

The  troops  had  been  ordered  to  sleep  on  their 
arms,  their  ammunition  carefully  shielded  under 
their  coats.  The  watchword  had  been  imparted, 
and  none  who  could  not  immediately  pronounce, 
"Here  we  are,  and  there  they  go,"  was  to  be 
admitted  within  the  lines.  Thus  constantly  on  the 
alert,  they  saw  the  early  hours  of  the  night  pass  by. 

To  pickets  and  videttes  alike  the  evening  was 
uncanny.  The  tempest,  though  comparatively 
stilled,  occasionally  fanned  the  recesses  of  the  woods 
with  its  dying  energies;  and,  to  a  superstitious 
soldier's  ears,  there  were  strange  noises  coming  up 
the  cool  ravines,  while  the  damps  of  the  night 
brought  a  chill  to  his  bones. 

In  the  glen  opening  on  the  Lancaster  road,  some 
two  miles  west  of  the  "Paoli,"  stood  a  picket  whose 
vigilance  was  not  suffered  to  relax  despite  the 
weirdness  of  the  night.  A  brook,  fed  by  two  or 
three  springs  on  the  hillside,  flowed  at  his  feet  and 
kept  him  company;  for  it  reminded  him  of  a  dancing 
rill  in  the  vicinity  of  his  father's  house.  It  was  not 
so  lonely,  because  he  was  familiar  with  the  region, 
and  knew  some  of  its  inhabitants.  Had  it  not  been 
for  the  proximity  of  the  enemy  he  would  have 
applied  for  a  brief  furlough  to  visit  some  friends 
at  the  Valley  Forge.  But  that  could  not  be  in  the 
presence  of  the  foe.  How  he  wished  that  the  war 
were  ended!  Its  hardships  were  extreme,  and  the 
outlook  anything  but  encouraging. 

He  was  in  the  midst  of  a  muse  upon  his  father's 
fireside  when  he  detected  a  form  stealing  up  the 
road,  whereupon,  bringing  his  piece  to  a  "ready," 


A  SCREED  OF  SCARLET  59 

he  softly  but  firmly  called,  "Halt !  Who  goes  there?" 

Quite  as  mildly  was  the  answer  given,  "A 
friend."  "Advance,  friend,  and  give  the  counter- 
sign !" 

The  figure  came  near,  bearing  something  in  one 
of  its  hands.  It  would  have  approached  nearer  still, 
but  the  picket  sternly  forbade,  and  insisted  upon  the 
countersign.  Something  in  the  tone  of  his  voice 
produced  a  singular  effect  upon  the  obtruder,  who 
inquired,  "Is  that  you,  Dick  Epright  ?" 

"Yes,"  answered  the  picket;  "who  are  you?" 

"Why,  don't  you  know  me — Tryon,  your  old 
playmate  ?" 

And  then  Epright  recognized  the  voice,  and 
inquired  what  its  owner  was  doing  there.  Tryon 
replied  that  he  had  been  engaged  by  some  of  the 
boys  to  supply  them  with  fresh  cider  from  Peggy 
Hambleton's,  and  was  going  to  meet  them  to 
deliver  it. 

The  wily  fellow  endeavored  to  ingratiate  himself 
with  his  old-time  comrade  sufficiently  to  procure 
the  countersign,  for  without  it  he  could  not  hope 
to  pass  other  pickets;  but,  true  to  his  duty  as  a 
soldier  on  guard,  Epright  refused  either  to  pass  him 
or  furnish  the  important  key.  Tryon  offered  him 
the  jug,  but  Epright  declined  to  taste  its  contents, 
and  bade  him  begone,  with  a  rebuke  about  the 
impropriety  of  his  act. 

"If  you  were  not  an  old  neighbor,  Will  Tryon, 
I'd  call  for  the  officer  of  the  guard,  but  you  may 
go  your  way  if  you  will  leave  the  picket  line 
altogether." 


60  VALLEY  FORGE 

This  Tryon  promised,  said  "Good-night,"  and 
then  stole  away,  as  if  to  go  home.  But  soon,  wheel- 
ing about,  he  sought  a  more  vulnerable  avenue  of 
approach  for  his  nefarious  purpose. 

Alas!  the  very  next  picket  he  hailed — not  the 
immediate  neighbor  of  Epright — yielded  to  the 
seductions  of  the  jug,  whose  contents — unintoxicat- 
ing,  of  course,  because  expressed  that  very  day — 
awoke  thoughts  of  home  and  comradeship.  The 
story  was  plausible,  and  as  a  man  of  the  vicinity 
Tryon  was  given  the  precious  secret,  and  permitted 
to  pass.  Within  an  hour  he  returned  to  the  same 
spot,  and  after  a  little  chat,  in  which  he  succeeded 
in  gaining  valuable  information,  he  departed,  appar- 
ently for  his  home. 

It  was  past  midnight.  Such  of  the  soldiers  as 
were  awake  congratulated  themselves  that  the 
threatened  danger  was  also  past.  Drowsiness  was 
upon  nearly  all  but  the  sentinels.  The  faithful 
Epright  down  in  the  ravine,  expecting  to  be  relieved 
shortly,  heard  a  sound  that  alarmed  him.  It  was 
the  trampling  of  human  feet.  Already  upon  his 
guard,  he  stood  at  his  post  manfully,  and  challenged 
the  approaching  party.  One  came  forward,  evi- 
dently an  officer,  who  responded  with  the  counter- 
sign. Epright  was  troubled;  and  the  officer,  as  if 
he  expected  him  to  exhibit  some  embarrassment, 
hastily  explained,  "We're  General  Smallwood's 
party  come  to  reinforce  the  camp,  for  a  British 
attack  is  apprehended." 

Epright  involuntarily  touched  his  cap,  and  the 
officer  passed  on. 


A  SCREED  OF  SCARLET  61 

How  strange  the  whole  thing  seemed,  thought  the 
worthy  sentinel.  How  could  Smallwood  be  com- 
ing from  the  enemy's  direction,  without  immense 
risk  of  being  trapped — or  had  he  been  lucky  enough 
to  miss  the  British  picket?  He  was  bewildered, 
and  these  queries  rapidly  spun  about  in  his  brain. 
Should  not  he  fire  his  gun  and  bring  the  cor- 
poral of  the  guard  ?  He  raised  his  piece  for  that 
purpose,  when  an  agonizing  pain  seized  him,  and 
he  tottered  and  fell  to  the  ground — dead !  A  bayo- 
net had  been  thrust  into  his  heart,  and  his  warm 
lifeblood  gushed  out  on  the  damp  soil  of  the  ravine. 
"Relief"  had  come  in  strange  guise. 

A  form  turned  away  in  horror  lest  in  spite  of  the 
darkness  it  might  witness  the  awful  scene ;  a  man 
averted  his  face  and  placed  his  hand  upon  his  closed 
eyes  to  make  assurance  doubly  sure.  It  was  Will 
Tryon,  who  had  been  compelled  to  accompany  the 
midnight  detachment  of  General  Grey,  the  "no  flint" 
leader  of  night  attacks.  The  British  commander,  at 
the  head  of  three  thousand  veteran  troops,  had  come 
up  from  Mary  Howell's  as  noiselessly  as  possible, 
capturing  all  persons  found  along  the  Swedes'  Ford 
road,  in  or  out  of  a  house,  and  compelling  them  to 
proceed  with  the  soldiers,  lest  one  should  escape 
and  give  the  alarm.  The  Long  Ford  road  was 
reached,  and  a  left  wheel  made  for  the  "Admiral 
Warren,"  the  same  course  being  taken  in  the  case 
of  inmates  of  the  premises ;  and  now,  with  one  gate 
open,  there  was  abundant  reason  to  hope  that  the 
raid  would  be  successful.  "Here  we  are,  and  there 
they  go,"  did  its  work  well.  Every  sentinel  was 


62  VALLEY  FORGE 

bayoneted  where  he  stood,  after  the  countersign 
was  given ;  for  the  discharge  of  a  single  gun  might 
bring  the  expedition  to  naught  with  such  a  man  as 
Wayne  for  the  opposing  leader. 

One  wary  picket,  catching  a  glimpse  of  accouter- 
ments  distinctly  British,  fired  his  gun,  and  the  sound 
reverberated  through  the  hollow,  but,  strangely 
enough,  it  did  not  effect  a  general  firing  of  the 
guns  of  the  picket ;  moreover,  it  could  not  penetrate 
to  the  encampment.  The  poor  fellow  bit  the  dust 
immediately  afterward,  a  curse  accompanying  the 
vicious  thrust  that  felled  him. 

Up  through  the  glen  crowded  the  exultant 
soldiers.  Tyron  led  the  way,  which  was  familiar 
to  him  alone,  himself  under  the  constant  scrutiny 
of  an  officer  who  would  have  run  his  sword  through 
him  if  he  had  faltered  in  the  slightest  in  his  course, 
or  evinced  any  suspicious  tendency.  He  was  har- 
rowed with  emotions.  Loyalist  that  he  was,  the 
deadly  meanness  of  the  transaction  overwhelmed 
him.  The  sale  of  his  neighbors  and  their  estates, 
the  bargaining  away  of  freedom  and  life  almost 
suffocated  him. 

Hark!  A  gunshot,  and  then  another — and 
another,  very  close  at  hand.  The  general  had  been 
sleeping  but  lightly — a  soldier's  ear  is  always  ready 
to  hear  a  signal.  Wayne  hurried  out  of  his  tent, 
and  immediately  formed  his  division.  Relentlessly 
the  silent  host  came  on,  Musgrove's  command 
from  near  the  "Paoli"  closing  in  the  eastern  door 
of  the  Americans.  Wayne  himself  said  afterward 
that  the  British  did  some  firing,  but  the  main  attack 


A  SCREED  OF  SCARLET  63 

was  with  the  bayonet.  In  extreme  haste  the  Penn- 
sylvanians  were  drawn  up  by  Colonel  Humpton  in 
the  light  of  the  campfires,  and  a  capital  aim  was 
thus  afforded  the  British  marksmen.  It  was  some- 
what like  the  tornado  of  the  afternoon,  the  way  they 
marched  up  the  little  elevation.  The  onward  rush 
swept  away  the  feeble  barrier,  and  men  fell  in  all 
directions  under  the  remorseless  bayonet. 

Many  a  deed  of  daring  was  done  on  that  dread- 
ful night.  But  perhaps  none  excelled  the  perform- 
ance of  the  gallant  general.  Threatened  by  an 
advancing  line  of  his  enemies,  he  cleverly  turned 
about  his  army  cloak,  which  was  lined  with  red, 
and  thus  resembling  a  British  officer,  dashed  up  to 
the  line  and  commanded  it  to  halt,  actually  gaining 
time  for  an  important  maneuver. 

The  general's  skill  and  promptness  averted  a 
greater  disaster.  He  directed  Colonel  Humpton 
to  wheel  the  division,  while  he,  with  the  light 
infantry,  covered  the  retreat  to  a  tenable  position 
a  short  distance  away. 

The  British  did  not  pursue  their  advantage. 
Either  they  had  had  enough  of  carnage,  or  else 
they  were  afraid  to  venture  into  the  presence  of  an 
aroused  lion.  Gathering  up  the  spoils,  burning  the 
camp,  and  retiring  with  some  seventy  or  eighty 
prisoners,  they  triumphantly  marched  back  to  their 
camp  in  the  small  hours  of  the  holy  day,  rejoicing 
over  their  success. 

The  Sabbath  sun,  looking  down  through  the 
branches  of  the  forest  trees  upon  the  spot  where 
the  encampment  had  been,  saw  smoldering  fires,  and 


64  VALLEY  FORGE 

heaps  of  camp  equipage  scattered  in  confusion ;  but 
it  also  saw  more  than  a  half  hundred  manly  forms 
stark  in  death,  and  pools  of  gore  everywhere. 

A  single  soldier  had  hurriedly  crept  into  a  brush 
pile.  An  English  bayonet  was  thrust  into  it  once 
or  twice,  but  it  missed  the  trembling  fellow,  who 
escaped  unharmed. 

After  the  night  of  terror  the  people  of  the  vicinity 
assembled  upon  the  spot  consecrated  by  the  blood 
of  patriots  and  buried  the  poor  victims,  whose  bodies 
lay  so  thickly  beneath  the  overarching  trees.  It  was 
a  day  of  mourning  to  the  simple,  peaceful  folk. 

At  the  same  time  a  sergeant  in  the  Hessian 
ranks  was  boasting  to  his  companions  who  had  not 
been  detailed  to  the  sickening  work,  of  his  own 
part  in  the  shocking  affair.  He  declared  that  while 
the  Americans  ran  about  barefooted,  and  half 
clothed,  he  had  helped  to  kill  three  hundred  of  them 
with  the  bayonet,  and  that  he  "stuck  them  one  after 
another  until  the  blood  ran  out  of  the  touchhole  of 
his  musket." 

At  the  side  of  General  Grey  rode  a  young  man  of 
twenty-six,  in  the  uniform  of  a  captain — one  of  the 
handsomest  figures  in  the  entire  British  establish- 
ment. His  mental  endowments  were  of  a  high  order, 
and  he  was  equally  facile  in  drawing  pictures  or 
writing  rhymes.  The  Lancaster  road  was  not 
unfamiliar  to  him,  for  his  trained  eye  had  taken 
note  of  its  environment  while  traversing  it  as  a 
prisoner.  At  Saint  John's  on  the  Sorel  he  had 
been  captured  by  the  gallant  but  ill-fated  Montgom- 
ery, and  sent  to  Lancaster. 


A  SCREED  OF  SCARLET  65 

What  Captain  John  Andre  thought  as  he  acted 
as  aid  to  the  commander  of  the  ruthless  midnight 
raid  will  never  be  known.  Doubtless,  however, 
he  sighed  as  he  dwelt  upon  the  darker  features  of 
war. 

A  universal  expression  of  horror  was  extorted 
from  the  people  of  the  vicinage,  and  some  of  them 
were  ready  on  slight  provocation  to  denounce  to 
the  British  officers  what  they  termed  "a  cold- 
blooded slaughter."  The  commander-in-chief  was 
not  spared  in  the  reflections  of  the  angry  country- 
side, and  received  from  his  hosts  a  significant 
opinion  of  the  affair. 

"Why  so  grave,  Miss  Jones?"  he  inquired  of 
Frances.  "Your  expression  is  unusually  solemn." 
He  little  dreamed  that  his  light  and  thoughtless 
remark  would  evoke  so  spirited  a  reply. 

"It  is  time,  General  Howe,  to  be  solemn,  when 
our  brothers'  blood  cries  to  us  from  the  ground. 
We  are  in  mourning  for  the  noble  men  who  were 
slain  at  midnight  without  chance  to  defend  them- 
selves." 

"You  allude  to  the  attack  on  Wayne  last  night, 
I  suppose;  but  you  forget  that  this  is  but  the  fortune 
of  war.  Sometimes  it  falls  to  one  side  to  endure 
defeat,  and  sometimes  to  the  other." 

"Yes,  war  is  always  horrible.  I  hate  it  with  my 
whole  soul,  and  do  not  see  why  it  need  be;  but 
these  poor  men  were  fighting  for  their  liberty,  in 
a  war  thrust  upon  them  by  the  king." 

The  courteous  chieftain  admired  the  fire  in  the 
eyes  of  the  fair  rebel,  and  sighed  once  or  twice 


66  VALLEY  FORGE 

before  he  ventured  to  say,  "But,  Miss  Frances, 
your  friends  were  in  rebellion  against  the  estab- 
lished authority,  and  they  could  expect  nothing-  eise 
but  the  use  of  violence  to  subject  them  to  obedience 
to  the  laws." 

"I  suppose  we  should  never  agree  about  that, 
sir/'  said  Frances ;  "but  I  have  heard  that  there  are 
rules  in  warfare  that  are  observed  by  civilized 
nations.  For  instance,  when  men  surrender  they 
are  taken  prisoners,  and  not  injured." 

"True,"  said  the  general,  "and  this  is  the  course 
his  majesty's  troops  invariably  pursue." 

"But,  General  Howe,  if  reports  be  true,  our  poor 
men  were  killed  with  the  bayonet  even  while  they 
were  pleading  for  mercy."  The  girl  drew  herself 
up  disdainfully,  and  continued :  "Some  of  them  were 
sick;  and  even  on  their  knees  begged  that  their  lives 
might  be  spared.  I  feel  that  they  were  massacred!" 

The  cheeks  of  the  British  commander  mantled. 
It  may  have  been  partly  from  anger — the  fearless 
girl  was  indisputably  angry — it  may  have  been  from 
shame;  but  after  a  moment's  hesitation  he 
responded:  "Miss  Jones,  believe  me,  nothing  of 
the  nature  of  a  massacre  is  ever  contemplated  by  a 
servant  of  George  the  Third.  Humanity  ever 
characterizes  the  officers  of  his  armies.  It  is  true 
that  excesses  are  possible  in  the  heat  of  passion  and 
the  excitement  of  the  moment ;  besides,  in  a  night 
attack  unfortunate  occurrences  are  less  preventable 
than  in  the  dayHght.  But  be  assured  that  if  any- 
thing barbarous  marred  the  engagement  last  night, 
it  was  involuntary." 


A  SCREED  OF  SCARLET  67 

But  Frances  was  not  appeased.  The  rumors 
which  had  reached  her  were  too  painful  to  be 
endured  in  silence,  and  the  vision  of  the  fallen  in 
the  corpse-strewn  coppice  nerved  her  to  scathing 
words. 

"I  myself  heard  a  brutal  sergeant  boasting  of 
his  bloody  work,  and  laughing  at  the  cries  of  his 
victims.  He  was  using  the  grindstone  to  sharpen 
his  bayonet,  which  he  said  had  been  dulled  by 
striking  so  many  bones." 

"If  you  could  point  him  out  to  me,  Miss  Jones, 
I  would  undertake  to  teach  him  a  lesson  he  will  not 
be  likely  to  forget." 

She  responded  with  spirit :  "There  are  too  many 
like  him,  sir;  besides  I  could  scarcely  be  expected  to 
hunt  through  the  camp  among  men  whose  resem- 
blance to  each  other  is  so  strong." 

The  general  was  nettled;  but  he  allowed  his 
respect  for  the  young  woman  to  restrain  him  from 
any  ungallant  remark,  and  contented  himself  with 
gravely  saying:  "My  dear  young  lady,  you  must 
not  forget  that  war  is  war,  and  that  it  cannot  be 
conducted  on  the  exact  principle  of  pure  civiliza- 
tion. If  people  will  shoot  at  each  other  somebody 
will  be  killed.  In  this  case  your  feeling  is  aroused 
because  your  own  countrymen  have  suffered,  but 
to-morrow  we  may  be  the  sufferers;  will  you  then 
feel  as  you  do  now  ?" 

It  was  a  specious,  searching  question.  But 
Frances  was  equal  to  the  emergency.  "I  should  be 
ashamed  of  the  American  commander  who  would 
suffer  such  a  thing  to  happen;  and  I  would 


68  VALLEY  FORGE 

denounce  him  everywhere  as  a  disgrace  to  his 
country  and  to  civilization."  Frances  observed  that 
the  shaft  struck  deep,  and,  feeling  that  she  might 
have  been  unjust  to  the  general,  she  added :  "Par- 
don me,  sir,  I  do  not  mean  to  reflect  upon  you, 
although  my  words  might  seem  to  bear  that  con- 
struction. I  believe  that  if  you  had  been  present 
last  night  you  would  not  have  permitted  the  mas- 
sacre— for  such  I  am  compelled  to  term  it." 

The  general  looked  relieved,  and  was  grateful 
to  the  girl  for  her  opinion  of  himself.  He  remarked, 
graciously,  "I  thank  you,  Miss  Frances,  for  your 
kind  personal  words;  I  hope  that  I  may  prove 
worthy  of  them." 

At  the  distance  of  more  than  a  century  and  a 
quarter  it  is  difficult  to  pronounce  judgment  upon 
the  incident.  To  a  large  extent  the  bloodshed  may 
have  been  unavoidable,  the  success  of  the  attack 
depending  upon  the  promptness  of  the  tactics 
employed.  It  is  probable,  however,  that  the  con- 
sensus of  popular  opinion  relative  to  the  affair  will 
ever  be  signified  by  its  usual  historical  caption,  "The 
Paoli  Massacre." 


CHAPTER  VII 
A  TUMULT  IN  TREDYFFRIN 

HAVARD  BROWN  was  fighting  another  sort  of 
battle.  It  would  seem  utterly  incongruous  that  the 
tender  passion  should  develop  amid  such  exciting 
scenes;  but  Havard  was  awaking  to  the  recog- 
nition of  a  tempest  swaying  his  own  nature,  and, 
though  he  philosophically  impeached  its  genuine- 
ness, yet  he  returned  to  it  so  inevitably  that  he  was 
at  last  compelled  to  admit  that  he  was  in  love  with 
Miss  Ethel  Thomson! 

But  what  about  Frances  Jones  ?  Had  not  Havard 
thought  of  her  more  frequently  and  intknately  than 
one  simply  thinks  of  a  fair  neighbor?  Of  all  the 
countryside  there  was  none  among  the  young  girls 
whom  he  liked  so  well.  While  no  explicit  tender  of 
affection  had  ever  been  made,  there  were  times 
when  his  expressions  of  friendship  had  been  signifi- 
cant, and  when  manner  spoke  louder  than  words. 
Often  had  he  acted  as  her  escort  to  the  parties  of 
the  neighborhood,  and  oftener  still  had  he  visited 
her.  There  was  something  about  her  that  pleased 
him  immensely,  and  yet  he  could  not  have  defined 
it.  She  was  not  a  "beauty,"  and  was  innocent  of 
the  arts  which  are  sometimes  attributed  to  politic 
fair  ones. 

It  was  indeed  a  predicament.  He  did  not  ques- 
69 


70  VALLEY  FORGE 

tion  his  love  for  Ethel,  apparently  taking  that  for 
granted.  And  yet  an  obtruding,  warning  voice — 
whence  did  it  spring? — reminded  him  of  observa- 
tions he  had  made  regarding  her.  Now  and  then 
a  trifle  came  to  the  surface  in  conversation  that 
savored  of  self-love  or  a  dearth  of  concern  for 
others,  a  trace  of  vanity,  perhaps — just  a  gleam. 

But  Ethel  was  unquestionably  lovely  to  the  eye. 
Art  had  heightened  her  natural  charms  until  she 
became  a  picture.  Her  headdress  made  her  face 
fairly  captivating,  her  gowns  dazzled  the  vision  of 
the  simple-hearted  farmer,  and  her  shapely  hands 
exercised  over  him  a  magic  spell. 

Frances  Jones — and  Havard's  thoughts  would 
revert  to  her — was  so  different.  Her  needlework  was 
excellent,  and,  unlike  Ethel,  she  depended  almost 
entirely  upon  domestic  manufacture  for  her  ward- 
robe. But  her  personal  presence  was  not  to  be 
compared  with  that  of  the  city  girl.  Constant  serv- 
ice in  the  kitchen  of  a  farmhouse  interfered  with 
those  delicate  charms  which  require  release  from 
manual  toil  to  bring  them  to  their  highest  perfec- 
tion. Her  fingers  were  marred  with  the  pricking 
of  the  needle,  or  with  the  rough  work  of  the  dairy. 
Frances  milked  the  cows,  baked  bread,  made  butter, 
swept  and  scrubbed,  and  sewed  the  most  of  the 
clothes  used  by  the  household.  In  all  these  respects 
she  was  a  true  artist,  but  of  such  homely  things  the 
dainty  science  of  aesthetics  takes  no  cognizance. 

And  yet  Havard  bore  witness  to  himself  that  he 
had  found  it  very  pleasant  to  touch  those  service- 
able little  hands  in  assisting  their  possessor  to  dis- 


A  TUMULT  IN  TREDYFFRIN  71 

mount  from  her  horse.  He  could  not  recall  a  time 
when  the  sight  of  Frances  had  not  given  him  real 
pleasure  and  brightened  the  hour ;  and,  while  it  was 
easy  to  persuade  himself  that  he  was  in  love  with 
Ethel,  it  was  a  little  difficult  to  remove  an  impres- 
sion that  he  had  been  affectionately  inclined  to 
Frances. 

And  what  about  Frances  herself?  Ah,  noble 
girl,  while  upon  such  a  theme  the  veil  of  her  medi- 
tations would  not  be  lifted,  were  it  never  so  lightly, 
she  did  dwell  at  times  upon  the  personality  of  Ha- 
vard  Brown.  True  woman  that  she  was,  she  could 
not  but  regard  his  character  with  approbation. 
Their  lives  had  been  so  intertwined  that  she  had  the 
best  of  opportunities  for  estimating  his  real  charac- 
ter and  ambitions;  and  if  there  had  sprung  up  a 
genuine  affection  for  him  the  fact  was  complimen- 
tary to  Havard,  for  so  discerning  a  spirit  as  hers 
would  not  have  yielded  the  holy  sentiment  unless 
his  personality  had  been  built  upon  a  satisfactory 
foundation  of  moral  worth. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  day  of  rest  so  fearfully 
desecrated  by  the  sanguinary  occurrences  near  the 
"Paoli,"  Mrs.  Jones  suggested  to  Frances  that  they 
go  over  to  Abel  Reese's  for  some  homemade  soap 
for  the  morrow's  wash,  the  demands  of  the  soldiers 
having  exhausted  both  their  own  stock  and  that  of 
Aunt  Lydia.  Taking  a  small  basket,  they  crossed 
the  fields  to  the  westward,  toward  the  whitewashed 
stone  house  of  their  neighbor.  As  they  looked  at 
the  batteries  crowning  Mount  Airy,  and  saw  the 
sentinels  parading  beneath  the  tall  trees,  Mrs.  Jones 


72  VALLEY  FORGE 

sighed  and  uttered  some  plaintive  sentences.  She 
glanced  timidly  at  the  detachments  occupying  the 
high  ground  on  their  left,  up  against  the  woods 
along  their  own  short  road  to  Peggy  Hambleton's 
corner,  and  said,  "When  will  we  be  free  from  the 
presence  of  the  king's  army?  Shall  we  ever  be  at 
peace  again?" 

Frances  gently  detained  her  while  they  were 
climbing  a  fence,  and  bade  her  rest  a  moment  while 
they  surveyed  the  scene,  and  then,  assuming  a  cheer- 
ful tone,  replied,  "O,  mother,  it  does  seem  hard  that 
we  must  submit  to  this,  but  I  hope  that  we  will 
soon  see  the  end  of  it.  Besides,  if  the  British 
can  be  kept  out  of  the  city,  and  the  way  of  the 
Congress,  it  will  be  worth  while  to  bear  with  them 
here." 

The  sentries  along  the  path  looked  at  the  pair 
curiously,  but  did  not  disturb  them  until  they  neared 
the  Reese  house,  which  was  then  the  headquarters 
of  Earl  Cornwallis.  Here  they  were  detained 
briefly,  but  were  eventually  permitted  to  call  upon 
their  neighbors. 

Abel  Reese's  house  stood  in  a  small  glen,  and 
the  barn  was  at  its  western  side.  The  dwelling  was 
a  substantial  structure,  in  which  large  pieces  of 
stone  abounded,  and  was  built  upon  thick,  staunch 
foundations.  It  had  several  diminutive  windows 
on  its  various  sides — some  of  them  only  large 
enough  to  permit  the  occupants  to  thrust  their  rifles 
through  them  to  ward  off  an  attack  of  Indians. 
Both  the  Reese  and  Jones  families  had  a  large  col- 
lection of  arrowheads,  spearheads,  fishing  flints,  and 


A  TUMULT  IN  TREDYFFRIN  73 

battle-axes,  picked  up  from  time  to  time  by  the  plow- 
men as  they  upturned  the  soil. 

On  the  west  gable  of  the  house,  in  a  sort  of  arched 
panel,  was  engraved  the  date  of  its  erection — 
"1742."  In  front  was  a  flagstone  pavement,  and  the 
interior  was  divided  into  two  downstairs  rooms  and 
three  upper  apartments.  Poplar  beams  formed  the 
ceilings.  Some  distance  to  the  east  of  the  house 
was  an  arched  and  sodded  springhouse ;  where  were 
kept  certain  table  indispensables ;  and  from  which 
flowed  a  moderate  run. 

Into  the  living  room  to  which  the  family  was 
now  practically  confined  the  two  ladies  entered,  and 
were  cordially  greeted,  for  neighborly  courtesies 
were  particularly  appreciated  during  the  British 
incursion.  Naturally  their  remarks  avoided  any 
references  to  the  disagreeable  situation,  for  Corn- 
wallis  and  his  aids  were  in  the  front  room. 

The  object  of  the  errand  was  announced,  and 
Mrs.  Reese  produced  some  blocks  of  soap,  of  which, 
happily,  she  still  possessed  a  store,  and  then  the 
company  allowed  themselves  such  chat  as  was 
proper  under  the  circumstances. 

Humor  was  not  wanting,  nor  a  bit  of  raillery, 
and  the  ladies  chaffed  each  other  about  the  humor- 
ous experiences  of  impromptu  hospitality. 

Miss  Jennie  Reese,  a  maiden  of  Frances's  age, 
was  very  vivacious,  and,  being  possessed  of  various 
items  of  rural  gossip,  generously  spread  her  social 
board  with  them. 

"Frances,"  she  remarked,  "you  haven't  been 
up  at  Saint  Peter's  lately.  You  won't  know 


74  VALLEY  FORGE 

what's  going  on  in  the  world  if  you  don't  go 
to  church." 

"No,"  responded  that  young  lady,  "I  have  missed 
several  services  there,  but  I  went  with  Betsy  Ross — 
who  was  visiting  us,  you  know — to  Saint  David's. 
She  has  some  friends  buried  there,  and  felt 
like  seeing  their  graves,  so  of  course  I  took 
her  over." 

"Mr.  Currie  preached  a  right  good  sermon  last 
Sunday;  I  don't  remember  just  what  it  was  about, 
but  all  said  it  was  capital.  By  the  way,  Will  Bull 
was  up  from  the  Ford,  and  Ethel  Thomson  with 
him.  I  hadn't  seen  her  for  a  long  time.  She's 
just  fascinating." 

Frances  was  about  to  make  some  reply,  but  Jennie 
rattled  on  about  Ethel's  gown,  and  the  putting  up 
of  her  hair,  and  a  string  of  minor  matters,  and 
whatever  Frances  would  have  said  was  thus  lost. 

Presently  the  gossipy  girl  remarked:  "Frances, 
you'll  have  to  be  looking  out  sharp,  I  can  tell  you. 
Do  you  know  who  was  at  church  and  went  home 
with  Ethel?" 

Now  Miss  Jones  became  aware  of  an  uneasiness. 
She  was  ready  to  chide  herself  because  of  it,  and 
yet  that  did  not  affect  the  fact.  But  without  any 
change  of  color,  and  with  a  smile  that  was  perhaps 
just  a  little  hypocritical,  she  calmly  answered, 
"No." 

"Well,"  said  the  lighthearted  and  mischievous 
girl,  "it  was  just  Havard  Brown.  Will  Bull  was 
with  them  out  in  the  graveyard — I  saw  that  while 
I  was  coming  up  to  church ;  and  when  the  service 


A  TUMULT  IN  TREDYFFRIN  75 

was  over  Havard  rode  along  with  Will  and  Ethel 
down  the  Swedes'  Ford  road,  and  I  just  believe  that 
he  went  home  with  them,  for  Harry  Rossiter  met 
them  far  below  the  'King.'  "• 

Frances  tried  to  persuade  herself  that  this  was 
uninteresting;  yet  her  womanly  perception  could 
not  but  recognize  it  as  a  speck  upon  the  horizon 
which  might  or  might  not  prove  of  importance. 
But  with  good  sense  she  endeavored  to  dismiss  the 
matter  from  her  mind,  by  calling  Jennie's  attention 
to  other  themes.  But  the  malicious  young  lady, 
who  was  shrewd  enough  to  guess  that  the  topic  was 
embarrassing  to  Frances,  persisted  in  reviving  it, 
until  with  a  woman's  tact  the  latter  turned  the 
tables  on  her  friend  by  referring  to  love  affairs  per- 
tinent to  herself,  whereupon  Jennie  laughingly 
vacated  the  field. 

The  elder  ladies  had  been  discussing  affairs  less 
sentimental,  and  soon  Mrs.  Jones  intimated  that  it 
was  time  to  return  home,  and  she  and  Frances  pre- 
pared to  resume  the  path  in  the  fields.  They  had 
scarcely  reached  the  foot  of  the  little  slope  leading 
to  the  run,  when  they  met  Lord  Cornwallis,  who  had 
been  walking — probably  for  exercise — along  the 
lines  on  the  front  hills.  Very  gracefully  did  he 
remove  his  chapeau,  and  with  a  profound  bow 
remark,  "Good  afternoon,  ladies." 

The  earl's  name  had  not  yet  become  so  conspicu- 
ous as  at  a  later  day;  yet  his  high  rank  induced 
Frances  to  scan  his  features  and  observe  his  manner, 
which  was  ingratiating.  He  seemed  to  be  the  em- 
bodiment of  courtesy,  and  quite  impressed  his 


76  VALLEY  FORGE 

youthful  observer,  who  understood  little  of  the 
qualities  essential  in  the  case  of  a  military  leader. 

The  earl  paused  deferentially,  as  though  wishing 
to  converse,  and,  when  the  ladies  halted,  remarked : 
"You  have  a  most  beautiful  country;  I  have  been 
examining  it  from  these  hills,  and  find  it  charming 
in  the  extreme.  I  congratulate  you  upon  such  an 
attractive  home." 

Mrs.  Jones  murmured  some  appreciative  words, 
but  Frances  bravely  took  it  upon  herself  to  tell 
the  earl  that  one  of  the  very  finest  of  views  could 
be  had  on  the  road  from  Peggy's  corner  to  Reese's 
lane,  where  the  Forge  hills  came  into  full  view ;  and 
that  other  pleasing  viewpoints  were  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Valley,  on  the  North  Valley  Hill. 

His  lordship  acknowledged  the  kindness  of  the 
information,  but  said,  smilingly,  "I  must  not  venture 
so  far  away  as  the  opposite  points  you  name ;  for  a 
very  troublesome  gentleman,  named  Mr.  Washing- 
ton, might  prevent  my  speedy  return  to  the  shelter 
of  these  hills." 

"I  believe  that  we  have  the  pleasure  of  addressing 
Lord  Cornwallis?"  inquiringly  remarked  Frances. 

The  earl  bowed. 

Frances's  eye  twinkled  merrily — the  earl,  who 
was  an  acute  observer,  thought  very  finely — as  she 
said,  "I  could  indeed  wish  you,  sir,  the  hospitality 
of  General  Washington." 

The  earl,  far  from  being  displeased,  showed  his 
appreciation  of  the  girl's  wit  by  a  hearty  laugh ;  and 
then  spoke  of  the  Continental  commander  in  terms 
of  high  respect  for  his  personal  character. 


A  TUMULT  IN  TREDYFFRIN  77 

The  earl  continued :  "I  regret  that  you  should  be 
subjected  to  experiences  like  these,  which  cannot 
but  be  annoying.  Naturally,  we  view  affairs  in  an 
entirely  different  light,  for  you  are  of  the  Colonies 
and  I  am  a  devoted  servant  of  George  HI.  But  I 
could  wish  that  the  delicate  matters  involved  in  this 
quarrel  between  the  mother  and  the  daughter  were 
settled,  that  peace  might  again  reign." 

Mrs.  Jones  devoutly  acquiesced  in  this  desire,  but, 
thinking  that  perhaps  the  courtesy  of  the  earl  was 
detaining  him  against  his  convenience,  now  indi- 
cated her  purpose  to  proceed ;  and  once  more  the  earl 
bowed,  and,  with  expressions  of  pleasure  at  having 
met  them,  bade  the  ladies  farewell. 

It  took  but  a  little  while  to  reach  the  gate  that  led 
into  the  yard  of  the  Jones  homestead,  and  the  ladies 
soon  found  themselves  occupied  with  the  usual  eve- 
ning duties.  To  some  extent  perhaps  the  extraor- 
dinary environment  dissipated  certain  unpleasantly 
obtrusive  thoughts,  but  it  must  be  admitted  that 
Frances  found  herself  reverting  more  than  once  or 
twice  to  the  badinage  of  the  flighty  Miss  Reese, 
relative  to  Havard  Brown.  "Pshaw,"  she  solilo- 
quized, "why  should  I  pay  any  attention  to  the  idle 
words  of  that  busy  girl  ?  It  was  perfectly  right  for 
Havard  to  go  to  Bull's.  He  does  not  often 
get  away  from  the  farm.  Besides,  it  was  quite 
natural."  But  in  her  heart — that  center  of  the  soul 
where  we  rarely  deceive  ourselves — she  found 
opposition  to  that  last  sentiment ;  it  was  not  natural, 
she  found  the  hidden  monitor  insisting. 


CHAPTER   VIII 
FIRING    A    FORGE 

THE  stately  hills  between  which  Valley  Creek 
in  its  last  reach  flows  to  the  Schuylkill  do  not  quite 
extend  to  the  river — at  least,  their  elevation  breaks 
off  rapidly  on  the  northern  side,  leaving  a  strip  of 
comparatively  level  ground  at  the  mouth  of  the 
tributary. 

Under  the  river  bank,  a  little  distance  below  the 
junction  of  the  creek  with  the  greater  stream,  a 
number  of  men  were  busily  engaged  upon  an  unusual 
task.  A  variety  of  beams  and  timbers  was  being 
fashioned  into  a  species  of  raft,  care  being  had 
to  make  it  both  light  and  substantial.  The  leader 
of  the  party  was  Colonel  Dewees,  and  among  his 
efficient  assistants  was  Havard  Brown.  To  any 
casual  spectator  it  would  have  been  patent  that 
the  proceeding  was  conducted  with  a  view  to  the 
prevention  of  unnecessary  publicity,  for  all  who  par- 
ticipated in  the  crude  ship-joinery  constantly  stole 
uneasy  glances  about  them,  as  though  apprehensive 
that  their  work  might  meet  an  unfriendly  or  critical 
eye. 

Nor  did  the  workmen  trust  to  their  own  survey  of 
the  river  or  the  creek,  for  a  small  guard  of  Conti- 
nentals was  posted  in  such  a  fashion  that  an  enemy 
could  not  approach  without  being  seen. 

Two  persons  hovered  about  the  little  company 
78 


FIRING  A  FORGE  79 

who  wore  the  uniform  of  officers.  That  they  were 
fast  friends,  as  well  as  comrades  in  special  service, 
might  have  been  inferred  from  their  freedom  in 
personal  address. 

"Colonel"  (it  was  customary  to  bestow  the  full 
title  upon  a  lieutenant-colonel),  "you'll  gain  rank 
and  fame  as  an  amphibious  Continental  if  you  suc- 
ceed in  navigating  this  "Noah's  ark"  across  the 
stormy  Schuylkill.  Have  you  laid  in  a  supply  of 
instruments  for  the  voyage?" 

The  superior  officer  was  quick  at  repartee :  "Harry 
Lee,"  he  said,  "your  own  light  horse  shall  be  hitched 
to  the  craft,  and  made  to  pull  it  over  to  the  haven." 

But  the  quick  eyes  of  Alexander  Hamilton  relaxed 
none  of  their  vigilance  because  of  banter.  Over  the 
stone  house  of  Isaac  Potts,  across  the  clearing  to 
the  high  timber,  they  roved  perpetually,  seeking  any 
lurking  spy  or  vidette  intent  upon  discovery.  In  the 
same  manner  Captain  Lee  supplemented  the  service 
of  the  sentries,  by  peering  along  the  creek,  on  both 
sides  of  the  stream,  to  detect  any  human  figures  in 
the  low  woodland. 

Fortune  seemed  to  favor  the  daring,  and  the 
uncouth  structure  was  about  ready  to  receive  its 
burden.  Then  a  careful  reconnoissance  was  made 
in  all  directions,  while  all  who  could  be  spared  has- 
tened to  the  Forge  shed  and  the  grist  mill,  in  whose 
dusty  bins  precious  army  stores  had  been  concealed. 
To  transfer  these  to  the  raft  was  the  duty  of  the 
hour,  for  a  rumor  was  prevalent  that  the  British 
purposed  a  thorough  examination  of  the  neighbor- 
hood. 


8o  VALLEY  FORGE 

It  was  not  a  sedate  young  Quaker  selling  sauer- 
kraut, to  whom  information  of  the  state  was  confided 
in  the  present  case ;  but  the  peripatetic  barber,  who 
gained  admission  to  the  camp,  and  cut  the  hair  of 
most  of  the  life  guard  about  the  headquarters, 
could  have  told  a  very  interesting  tale  of  the  con- 
nection between  events  had  he  been  found;  but  it 
might  have  been  noticed  that  when  he  was  heard 
of  anywhere  Colonel  Dewees  was  invariably  missing, 
and  when  the  latter  was  visible  nothing  was  known 
of  the  barber. 

As  hurriedly  as  possible  the  work  went  forward. 
Considerable  quantities  of  valuable  goods  were  col- 
lected from  bins  and  corners  and  chests  and  recesses, 
where  they  had  been  so  cleverly  concealed  as  not  to 
excite  suspicion  upon  the  part  of  those  who  visited 
the  Forge  or  the  mill  on  business.  For  the  first  time 
the  majority  engaged  in  the  work  were  made  aware 
of  the  existence  of  the  stores. 

Crack!  crack!  upon  the  early  afternoon  air.  A 
brace  of  musket  shots  rang  out  sharply  and  clearly ; 
for  the  wind  was  from  the  south,  a  fact  that  Hamil- 
ton had  already  noted.  The  sound  actually  brought 
him  relief;  for  he  had  been  straining  his  sense  of 
hearing  to  catch  these  very  signals  during  the  whole 
of  the  time  consumed  in  the  enterprise.  It  seemed 
almost  miraculous  that  molestation  by  the  enemy 
had  been  so  long  delayed.  Two  videttes  had  been 
posted  on  the  southern  slope  of  Mount  Joy,  with 
instructions  to  be  vigilant  in  detecting  the  approach 
of  a  British  scout,  and  it  was  their  signals  that  gave 
notice  of  danger. 


FIRING  A  FORGE  81 

Strenuously  the  toilers  bent  to  their  task ;  the  last 
load  was  taken  to  the  raft,  and  the  slow  craft  headed 
for  the  eastern  shore  of  the  Schuylkill,  before  the 
appearance  of  the  foe.  The  videttes  had  reloaded, 
stationed  themselves  at  a  narrow  pass  in  the  road, 
and  delivered  a  fire  with  sufficient  effect  to  delay  the 
progress  of  the  enemy.  Then,  retiring  upon  their 
own  party,  they  could  only  hastily  report  the  appar- 
ent strength  of  the  squadron  to  Hamilton  before  it 
was  upon  them.  As  the  numbers  of  the  British 
were  superior  to  those  of  the  Americans,  the  latter 
prudently  dispersed,  but  not  without  firing  a  vol- 
ley, which  again  retarded  the  advance  of  the  squad- 
ron. But  in  a  few  moments  a  second  party,  which 
had  come  circuitously  over  Mount  Misery,  swept 
down  the  ravine  to  the  creek,  across  to  the  Forge, 
and  proceeded  to  join  the  first  detachment.  It  was  a 
mystery  to  the  patriots  in  general  how  this  obscure 
route  became  known  to  the  enemy,  thus  enabling 
them  to  effect  so  timely  a  junction;  but  the  iron- 
master had  picked  up  enough  information  through 
secret  channels  to  convince  him  of  the  complicity  of 
Will  Tryon. 

It  was  Hamilton's  object  to  divert  attention  from 
the  raft,  which  as  yet  had  not  attracted  the  notice  of 
the  British.  Signaling  his  men  to  wheel  up  the  hill 
on  the  down-river  road,  he  drew  after  him  the 
united  British  force.  It  was  not  possible  to  reach  the 
ford  at  Fatland  and  escape  to  the  other  side,  for  the 
chase  was  hot ;  and  Hamilton  and  Lee,  hastily  con- 
ferring, concluded  to  retreat  down  a  lane  to  the  rear 
of  Mount  Joy. 


82  VALLEY  FORGE 

The  enemy's  pursuit  at  this  point  lost  some  of  its 
vigor,  as  they  were  suspicious  of  an  ambush;  and 
while  they'halted  and  debated  a  dragoon  caught  sight 
of  the  raft,  now  well  on  its  way  to  the  eastern  bank. 
At  once  the  squadron  wheeled  about  and  fired  at 
the  receding  craft.  The  pattering  of  bullets  about 
the  ears  of  the  polers  showed  that  they  were  within 
range ;  but  the  only  loss  sustained  was  that  of  a  horse 
belonging  to  Colonel  Dewees.  Before  another  vol- 
ley could  be  given  the  unwieldy  vessel  was  guided 
into  a  little  sheltered  bay  or  indentation  in  the  shore. 

Baffled  of  their  principal  prey — for  it  was  the 
capture  of  the  munitions  of  war  that  drew  them  to 
the  vicinity  of  the  Forge — the  troopers  debated  the 
propriety  of  searching  for  the  mounted  Americans. 
But  the  officer  in  charge  determined  to  examine 
instead  houses  and  other  buildings  in  which  stores 
might  be  concealed.  Drawing  from  his  pocket  a 
map,  he  made  a  mental  note  of  three  or  four  resi- 
dences, looked  about  him  for  certain  landmarks, 
and  then  led  his  men  to  the  sack. 

The  information  of  the  marauders  must  have  been 
accurate,  for,  while  effectually  ravaging  the  entire 
settlement,  their  chief  spite  was  directed  upon  the 
Waters  homestead.  Thomas  Waters  was  the  father 
of  Mrs.  Dewees,  and  a  member  of  the  rafting  party. 
Upon  him  were  visited  some  of  the  sins  of  his  son- 
in-law. 

The  devastation  of  property  in  general  was  very 
great,  and  evoked  deep  maledictions  upon  the  heads 
of  the  ruthless  band,  who  in  some  cases  spared  noth- 
ing in  the  wreaking  of  their  vengeance  and  cupidity. 


FIRING  A  FORGE  83 

Great  age  had  not  yet  invested  the  well-built  stone 
grist-mill  that  stood  on  the  banks  of  Valley  Creek, 
near  the  river.  Its  wheels  rumbled  on  in  "a  sort  of 
runic  rhyme,"  not  exactly  melodious,  and  yet  afford- 
ing an  agreeable  clack  to  the  rustic  ear.  The  dusty 
miller  with  his  bags  and  block-and-fall  was  highly 
picturesque.  A  small  corner  had  been  roughly 
boarded  off  for  an  office,  and  the  mill  boy  found 
gratification  in  placarding  the  walls  with  rude  wood- 
cuts. 

The  hasty  exit  of  the  patriots  had  left  the  mill 
tenantless.  Its  wheels  were  idle,  its  doors  open,  and 
a  general  air  of  guilt  hung  about  it  to  the  eyes  of 
the  invaders.  Perhaps,  could  it  have  been  heard — 
or  rather  understood — in  a  renewed  rumble,  it 
would  have  declared  its  pride  in  its  service  to  the 
American  Republic. 

A  half  mile  up  the  creek  was  the  Forge,  destined 
to  become  immortal.  The  sooty  stone  walls,  the 
capacious  chimney,  the  ponderous  hammer,  the 
cheerful  glow  when  the  iron  brought  down  from 
Warwick,  and  made  white-hot  in  the  charcoal  fur- 
naces, was  transferred  to  the  massive  anvil  to  be 
beaten  into  tough  fiber,  the  roar  of  the  bellows — all 
these  together  invested  "the  Valley  Forge"  with  a 
conspicuous  locale,  and  evoked  a  species  of  rough 
affection  for  the  grim  and  grimy  workshop  of 
Vulcan. 

One  could  imagine  that  between  the  Forge  and 
the  mill  existed  a  certain  tender  attachment.  Lovely 
and  pleasant  had  they  been  in  their  lives,  and  now  in 
death  they  should  not  be  divided.  No,  for  even  then 


84  VALLEY  FORGE 

the  avenger  was  upon  their  thresholds.  The  mill 
was  able  to  display  its  generosity  even  in  its  death 
throes;  for  there  still  remained  sufficient  meal  and 
unground  grain  to  sweeten  the  supper  of  many  a 
British  soldier,  while  the  Forge  had  in  it  many  tools 
that  were  eagerly  snatched  by  foreign  hands.  The 
work  of  demolition  began,  and  the  demon,  having 
become  aroused,  grew  reckless ;  and  costly  machinery 
was  ruined  utterly  and  hopelessly,  with  abundant 
curses  upon  the  fugitive  colonel. 

Soon  everything  was  ready  for  the  application 
of  the  torch,  and  the  two  structures  were  fired.  In 
the  mill  the  wooden  framework  and  floors  and  bins 
were  dry  and  highly  inflammable;  and  the  tongues 
of  flame  ran  and  leaped  and  twirled,  until  they 
aspired  to  the  roof,  whence  they  soon  issued  with 
such  roar  and  blast  that  the  scene,  but  for  its  wanton- 
ness, might  have  been  termed  sublime.  Every 
window  was  wreathed  in  scarlet;  and  the  body  of 
flame  was  so  intense,  that  the  surrounding  trees  were 
charred. 

It  was  much  the  same  with  the  iron  workshop, 
only  it  was  not  so  completely  furnished  with  wood- 
work. Yet  the  framing,  the  floor  overhead  and 
the  roof  furnished  fair  competition  in  providing  a 
blaze.  The  few  farmers  who  were  present  stood 
at  a  respectful  distance  viewing  the  catastrophe,  and 
lamenting  silently  at  the  fate  of  these  industries. 
It  was  only  one  of  a  thousand  instances  where 
patriotism  sacrificed  freely  to  attest  its  fidelity. 

At  last,  their  revenge  and  cupidity  having  been 
fairly  glutted,  and  it  being  by  no  means  certain  that 


FIRING  A  FORGE  85 

some  of  the  adventurous  Yankees  would  not  be 
found  stealing  upon  their  flank,  the  band  that  burned 
the  Forge  prepared  to  follow  the  steps  of  those 
that  had  driven  off  the  stock  of  the  farmers.  Little 
did  they  guess  that  their  actions  had  been  closely 
watched  by  the  little  guard  of  light  horse  they  had 
first  encountered. 

The  rafting  party,  safe  from  molestation  on  the 
eastern  shore,  observed  some  of  the  doings  of  their 
adversaries.  The  burning  gristmill  was  in  full  view, 
and  the  dense  smoke  that  rose  behind  it,  between  the 
folds  of  the  ravine,  proclaimed  to  Colonel  Dewees 
the  fate  of  the  Forge.  However  painful  the  spec- 
tacle, it  was  borne  with  his  unfailing  philosophy. 
His  loss  amounted  to  eleven  thousand  dollars! 


CHAPTER  IX 
LOYALTY  AND  LOVE 

HOWE  and  Washington  had  been  playing  at 
checkers,  and  the  former  had  succeeded  in  crowning 
a  man,  while  blinding  the  eyes  of  the  latter  with  a 
subordinate  move.  The  wily  Englishman,  pretend- 
ing to  have  a  design  on  the  Continental  depot  at 
Reading,  marched  his  army  up  the  west  bank  of 
the  Schuylkill,  whereupon  Washington,  moving  on 
a  much  longer  line  on  the  east  bank,  attempted 
to  anticipate  him.  Then  the  redcoats  turned  rapidly 
downstream,  and  on  September  twenty-third,  at 
Gordon's  Ford1  and  Fatland  Ford,2  crossed  their 
Rubicon,  and,  presto !  the  Quaker  City  was  theirs. 

The  depredations  at  the  Forge  did  not  comprise 
all  the  evil  wrought  by  foraging  parties  and  scouts 
of  the  royal  army.  Down  the  Swedes'  Ford  road 
these  birds  of  ill  omen  moved,  intent  upon  plunder 
and  the  apprehension  of  militiamen,  and  everywhere 
the  baleful  influence  of  some  secret  ally  was  discern- 
ible. They  paused  to  drink  the  liquors  in  the  cellar 
of  the  "King  of  Prussia."  Thence  they  wandered 
to  the  "Bird  in  Hand"  and  the  Gulph.  Others 
scoured  the  country  below  the  mouth  of  Valley 
Creek,  while  the  eastern  shore  of  the  Schuylkill  was 
by  no  means  overlooked. 

As  after  the  disposal  of  the  cargo  of  the  raft  it 

1  Phcenixville  2  Valley  Forge 

86 


LOYALTY  AND  LOVE  87 

was  deemed  best  that  the  crew  should  separate,  and 
each  man  look  out  for  himself,  Havard  Brown 
determined  to  work  his  way  down  the  river  to  the 
Swedes'  Ford;  and,  gathering  such  information  as 
he  could,  he  prepared  to  take  advantage  of  an  oppor- 
tunity to  cross  unmolested.  At  worst  he  could  pick 
his  way  over  Fatland  Ford  in  the  darkness  of  the 
night. 

How  strangely  war  and  love  are  blended  in 
human  experience !  Havard  had  another  reason  for 
turning  his  gaze  downstream — Miss  Ethel  Thom- 
son was  probably  at  her  uncle  Archibald's;  and, 
as  the  political  sentiments  of  that  gentleman  were 
decidedly  repugnant  to  the  royalists,  there  was  little 
doubt  that  a  heavy  hand  would  be  laid  upon  one 
who  bore  a  colonel's  commission  in  the  militia. 

The  mansion  and  inn  of  Colonel  Thomson  occu- 
pied a  site  on  a  high  ridge,  three  or  four  miles 
northwest  of  the  Swedes'  Ford.  It  was  invariably 
cool  in  summer,  offering  its  guests  a  pleasant 
retreat  from  the  heat  of  the  city.  Miss  Thomson 
divided  her  visit  between  her  uncle's  and  the  home 
of  her  aunt,  Mrs.  Bull,  which  was  within  a  mile  of 
the  Ford,  and  on  the  banks  of  Stony  Creek. 

Havard  was  undecided  about  visiting  the  young 
lady  in  his  present  plight,  for  there  was  no  oppor- 
tunity to  make  himself  presentable ;  and  yet,  on  the 
other  hand,  he  did  not  wish  to  return  home  without 
some  knowledge  of  events  in  that  quarter. 

Considerable  woodland  was  to  be  traversed,  and 
the  position  of  the  Thomson  mansion  was  obscured ; 
but  when  the  now  self-confessed  lover  attained  a 


88  VALLEY  FORGE 

spot  whence  a  distant  view  of  the  premises  could  be 
had,  he  saw,  to  his  alarm  and  consternation,  volumes 
of  smoke  ascending  from  the  roof  and  bursting  out 
at  the  windows. 

Calm  and  self-possessed  as  Havard  usually  was, 
he  broke  out  into  a  bitter  execration  of  the  cruelty 
of  the  spirit  of  war;  and  at  that  particular  moment 
he  might  have  wrought  severe  retaliation  if  the 
means  had  been  within  reach. 

Though  renewed  caution  was  imperatively  neces- 
sary, Havard  purposed  a  thorough  inquiry  into  the 
condition  of  affairs.  Stealing  along  the  road  with 
eyes  before  and  behind  him,  alternately,  he  studied 
every  suspicious  turn  and  possible  hiding  place.  He 
crossed  two  or  three  transverse  ravines,  where  he 
half  feared  he  should  come  upon  enemies,  but  for 
a  full  quarter  of  an  hour  detected  no  signs  of  danger. 

But  at  the  next  turn  he  saw  a  sight  that  caused  his 
heart  to  rise  to  his  mouth,  and  brought  a  curious 
feeling  to  the  roots  of  his  hair.  A  pillaging  band, 
apparently  intently  searching  for  some  object,  was 
coming  along  the  highway.  To  leap  into  the  woods 
was  Havard's  first  impulse,  and  he  immediately 
obeyed  it,  plunging  deep  in  the  shadows,  and  rather 
irresolutely  descending  a  slope  to  a  thicket,  in  which 
he  would  have  hidden — but  he  immediately  recoiled, 
startled  at  the  apparition  of  a  fold  of  scarlet.  Ha- 
vard expected  that  a  gleaming  bayonet  would  be 
protruded,  or  a  stream  of  flame  announce  the  watch- 
fulness of  a  redcoat,  but  he  determined  not  to  be 
taken  by  a  single  man.  The  next  moment  he  found 
himself  face  to  face  with  Ethel  Thomson ! 


LOYALTY  AND  LOVE  89 

Hie  surprise  was  mutual  and  great.  Ethel  at 
once  recognized  the  intruder,  and,  forgetful  of  the 
surroundings,  Havard  would  have  expressed  his 
supreme  satisfaction  at  seeing  her;  but  she  quickly 
put  her  finger  on  her  lips  and  motioned  silence.  Still, 
she  extended  her  hand,  which,  in  the  excitement  of 
the  moment,  presumably,  he  pressed  nervously. 

Mayhap  she  did  not  notice  that,  for  she  pointed 
up  the  hill,  and  whispered,  "They're  after  me,  and 
are  right  close.  I  fear  that  they'll  find  us  yet." 

"O,  Mr.  Brown,"  she  continued  tearfully,  "the 
wretches  surprised  us,  when  uncle  was  away  from 
home,  and  robbed  aunt  of  all  the  money  they  could 
find,  and  then  threatened  to  beat  her  unless  she 
would  furnish  more.  She  had  to  give  them  all  her 
jewelry,  and  then  they  spread  through  the  house, 
ruining  everything.  At  last  they  set  fire  to  the  dear 
old  home,  and  drove  us  out;  and  when  they  got 
the  stock  and  the  grain  out  of  the  barn  they  burned 
that,  too.  O,  it's  dreadful !" 

"But  where  is  your  aunt?" 

"I  got  separated  from  her  in  the  smoke  and  con- 
fusion, and — and — some  of  the  soldiers  were  drunk 
and  behaved  rudely  to  me,  and  I  ran  away.  Poor 
aunt,  I  wonder  how  she  fared !" 

Havard  hardly  knew  what  to  say  or  do.  He 
might  take  Ethel  home  to  his  mother,  but  it  would 
never  do  to  leave  her  aunt  to  the  mercy  of  intoxi- 
cated and  brutal  men. 

"Miss  Thomson,"  he  inquired  softly,  "would  it 
not  be  best  for  me  to  seek  the  officer — officers  are 
mostly  gentlemen — and  put  you  in  his  care?" 


90  VALLEY  FORGE 

But  Ethel  shook  her  head,  while  a  look  of  deep 
repugnance  spread  over  her  face.  "Not  for  all  the 
world,"  she  replied,  shuddering;  "it  was  he  who 
insulted  me,  and  he  is  grossly  intoxicated." 

Havard's  first  hope  grew  brighter.  "I  will  be 
frank  with  you,  Miss  Ethel :  I  meant  from  the  first 
to  take  you  home  to  my  mother;  only  I  felt  that  I 
ought  to  see  what  could  be  done  for  your  aunt.  I 
have  it;  I  will  reconnoiter  about  the  house,  while 
you  stay  in  this  thicket.  Be  sure  to  keep  your  cape 
hidden — I  took  it  to  be  a  uniform — and  I'll  be  back 
very  soon.  If  you  should  be  discovered  whoop  three 
times,  and  I'll  come  at  once." 

Havard  could  not  forbear  pressing  her  hand 
again,  when  he  noiselessly  left  her  side;  and  the 
young  lady,  somewhat  restored  to  presence  of  mind, 
noticed  the  warmth  of  the  act,  if  one  could  judge 
from  a  bit  of  color  that  tinged  her  cheek.  But  per- 
haps she  attributed  it  to  Havard's  flurried  condition ! 

The  latter  made  his  way  to  the  top  of  a  knoll,  but 
sufficiently  under  cover  of  the  woods  to  avoid  being 
discovered  by  the  party  in  the  road ;  although  these 
were  so  drunk  that  they  were  practically  helpless. 
Passing  on  farther,  he  came  to  a  point  where  he 
secured  a  fair  view  of  the  house;  and  to  his  great 
relief  noticed  that  Mrs.  Thomson  was  not  only 
unharmed,  but  was  under  the  protection  of  a  royalist 
relative. 

When  Havard  returned  to  Ethel's  side,  and  told 
her  what  he  had  learned,  she  expressed  her  purpose 
to  accompany  him  home,  only  regretting  that  her 
aunt  would  have  to  be  worried  about  her  safety  for 


LOYALTY  AND  LOVE  91 

a  little  while.  "Still,"  she  said,  "she  will  expect 
that  I  went  over  to  Corson's,  for  we  talked  about  it 
this  very  morning;  besides,  nothing  would  induce 
me  to  go  back  among  those  villains  again." 

The  young  man  was  overjoyed.  What  pride  he 
took  in  piloting  her  away  from  the  dangerous 
locality,  through  the  woods,  often  within  sight  of 
the  river,  which  supplied  a  pleasing  vista  through 
the  trees.  Ah  me,  how  love  ripens  with  such  a 
background ! 

Havard  had  made  up  his  mind  that  whether 
a  British  guard  was  stationed  about  Fatland  Ford 
or  not,  he  would  cross  it  with  Ethel.  There  was 
small  likelihood  that  they  would  be  molested,  and, 
in  truth,  it  was  the  only  feasible  plan. 

Having  arrived  at  this  conclusion — which  also 
embraced  the  prospect  of  a  meeting  with  his  mother 
sometime  that  night — he  roved  for  a  few  fleeting 
hours  the  Islands  of  the  Blessed!  Ethel  was  not 
left  to  guesses  as  to  the  state  of  mind  of  her  provi- 
dential escort,  and  before  they  emerged  from  the 
leafy  shade  of  the  river  woodland,  the  shy, 
restrained,  philosophical  Havard  had  made  an 
avowal  of  his  affection. 

It  was  truly  a  day  of  great  surprises  to  Ethel, 
but  as  regarded  Havard's  declaration  of  love  her 
intuition  had  put  her  slightly  on  guard;  so  that, 
while  the  profession  was  certainly  made  much  earlier 
than  she  dreamed,  it  was  not  totally  bewildering. 

Whether  or  not  a  corresponding  regard  had 
sprung  up  in  Ethel's  heart  may  be  left  to  the  reader 
to  determine.  Few  young  women  would  have 


92  VALLEY  FORGE 

treated  a  young  man  like  Havard  Brown  lightly. 
His  character  would  have  secured  him  respect  and 
deference;  and  his  tall  figure,  unconventionally  but 
neatly  attired,  showed  a  face  in  which  mental  and 
moral  strength  and  kindness  of  heart  were  strongly 
marked. 

These  things  had  made  an  impression  upon  Ethel. 
The  manliness  of  the  young  farmer  had  struck  her 
at  their  first  meeting,  and  had  been  emphasized  at 
the  interview  in  Saint  Peter's  churchyard.  The 
afternoon  at  her  uncle's  had  deepened  the  impres- 
sion, while  the  events  of  the  present  day  magnified 
it  immeasurably.  She  was  keen  enough  to  perceive 
that  her  rescue  by  Havard  was  not  an  accident,  for 
he  had  unquestionably  been  drawn  to  the  scene  of 
pillage  by  his  devotion  to  herself. 

Ethel  could  not  be  expected  to  decide  so  important 
a  matter  in  such  haste.  Mr.  Brown  would  see  that 
it  was  a  very  great  surprise,  and  that  several  things 
would  need  attention  and  consideration  before  she 
could  determine.  She  appreciated  so  estimable  an 
offer,  and  yet  it  were  wiser  to  permit  a  little  season 
of  delay  in  order  to  think  it  over.  Thus  the  young 
girl  parried  the  momentous  proposal. 

But  Ethel  reckoned  without  her  lover.  The  bash- 
ful, quiet  man  became  importunate,  and  then, 
naturally,  he  became  eloquent.  He  scarcely  knew 
himself,  so  fervid  was  his  pleading.  In  fact,  his 
auditor  was  astonished — and  proud!  There  was  a 
realism  in  the  circumstance  that  contributed  an 
unusual  spice  to  the  occasion.  Neither  of  the  chief 
personages  of  the  chapter  had  had  recent  opportunity 


LOYALTY  AND  LOVE  93 

to  eat  a  morsel  of  food;  and  thus  hunger  flavored 
this  romantic  wooing,  and  affected  for  weal  or  for 
woe  the  decision  of  the  fair  one.  At  last  Ethel, 
moved  by  the  intense  expressions  of  this  remarkable 
and  resistless  suitor,  intimated  that  she  would  give 
favorable  consideration  to  the  suit. 

This  crumb  made  Havard  radiantly  happy,  and 
he  painted  Ethel's  final  answer  in  the  most  roseate 
of  hues.  But  now  our  hero  was  obliged  to  pay 
attention  to  the  method  of  crossing  the  Schuylkill. 
He  recollected  that  a  boat  was  usually  kept  in  a 
little  cove  on  the  eastern  shore,  some  distance  below 
the  mouth  of  Valley  Creek.  If  this  could  not  be 
found,  nor  any  other  means  of  ferriage,  he  was  sure, 
giving  rein  to  his  imagination,  that  he  could  carry 
Ethel  across  the  stream  at  the  ford.  This  would 
be  as  romantic  an  incident  as  true  love  ever 
embraced,  to  be  sure;  but  fortunately  the  boat  was 
found,  and  Havard  rowed  it  across  the  river,  its 
fair  passenger  sitting  in  the  stern. 

The  evening  was  now  well  advanced.  Luna  in 
her  first  quarter  was  riding  through  cirrus  clouds. 
Vega  was  on  the  meridian  and  nearly  overhead ;  the 
Northern  Cross  and  the  Eagle  near  by;  and  in  the 
east  the  Great  Square  of  Pegasus  was  halfway  up 
from  the  horizon.  Here  and  there  the  brighter  stars 
of  other  constellations  shone  through  the  cloudy 
veil,  and  in  the  north  the  outlines  of  the  Dipper  were 
visible  below  and  west  of  the  pole. 

It  was  just  such  a  scene  as  must  entrance  a  hope- 
ful lover;  and  into  this  character  Havard  seemed 
to  have  been  suddenly  and  mysteriously  trans- 


94  VALLEY  FORGE 

formed.  The  bewitching  sky  above  and  the  be- 
witching girl  in  the  boat  exercised  a  spell  upon  him, 
and  evoked  the  poetic  in  his  nature.  He  seemed 
to  have  forgotten  the  peril  of  the  day,  and  to  have 
ignored  the  uncertainties  of  the  night. 

The  little  island  they  passed  was  silvery  in  the 
moonlight,  but  its  trees  cast  dense  shadows  that  lent 
weirdness  to  the  spectacle.  The  light  waves  pro- 
duced by  the  movement  of  the  oars  reflected  the 
glancing  of  the  moon  on  a  myriad  gleaming  ripples. 

As  they  reached  the  western  shore  its  shadows 
disclosed  no  enemy,  single  or  plural,  waiting  to  dis- 
pute their  landing;  and  when  Havard  had  carefully 
secured  the  boat  to  a  stout  sapling  that  grew  by 
the  water's  edge  he  took  a  route  perfectly  familiar 
to  him  on  fishing  excursions  when  a  mere  lad — up 
over  the  hill,  across  the  river  road,  on  through 
woods  to  the  Gulph  road,  thence  to  the  heights  of 
Mount  Joy,  and  then  down  to  the  comfortable  home 
on  its  southern  side,  where  he  was  delighted  to  see 
a  lamp  burning  in  the  window.  It  was  but  a  little 
while  before  he  was  clasped  in  the  arms  of  his 
mother. 

What  the  mystification  of  Mrs.  Brown  was,  when 
she  noticed  the  graceful  figure  and  beautiful  face 
of  Ethel  Thomson,  may  be  imagined.  But  she 
waited  in  patient  dignity  until  Havard  introduced 
the  young  lady  and  explained  the  circumstance.  The 
most  cordial  of  welcomes  was  given,  and  then  Mrs. 
Brown  proceeded  to  prepare  a  substantial  supper. 
Ethel  noticed  how  neat  all  the  table  furniture  was, 
and  tasted  with  satisfaction  the  simple  dishes. 


LOYALTY  AND  LOVE  95 

It  took  a  long  time  to  recount  the  experiences  of 
the  day  on  both  sides.  Mrs.  Brown  had  been 
troubled  at  Havard's  absence;  yet  she  thought  his 
share  in  the  care  of  the  stores  was  so  little  known, 
if  at  all,  that  he  would  not  be  in  much  danger  there- 
from. The  British  had  not  passed  them  by  in  their 
general  visitation,  and  the  farm  had  been  made  to 
contribute  freely  of  its  stock  and  products  to  the 
predatory  bands.  She  relieved  her  son's  solicitude 
by  explaining  that  no  indignities  had  been  shown 
her;  and  that  nothing  had  occurred  to  cause  her 
any  personal  alarm. 

It  had  been  remarked  that  Havard  was  a  philoso- 
pher. The  soldiers  had  carried  away  valuable 
effects,  and  he  had  lost  Saladin,  but  he  was  grateful 
to  Providence  that  the  torch  had  not  been  brought 
into  requisition.  Besides  he  was  disposed  to  find 
present  and  great  solace  in  the  fact  of  Ethel's  pres- 
ence, brought  about  so  singularly.  What  a  favor, 
to  have  her  so  near,  where  he  could  feast  his  eyes 
upon  her,  hear  her  voice,  and  bask  in  her  radiance 
in  general !  He  realized  that  very  soon  word  must 
be  got  to  her  friends,  and  that  she  would  probably 
insist  upon  returning  home  on  the  morrow ;  but  the 
interval  should  be  a  season  of  refreshing,  of  which 
he  would  cherish  every  moment. 

Mrs.  Brown  was  seated  at  the  tea  table  with  her 
face  turned  toward  the  rear  kitchen  window,  when 
she  gave  a  start,  which  in  turn  alarmed  her  son. 
Divining  that  something  that  she  had  seen  had 
frightened  her,  he  turned  about,  but  perceived  noth- 
ing. 


96  VALLEY  FORGE 

"What's  wrong,  mother?"  he  inquired,  quickly. 

"O,"  answered  she,  "I  saw  a  face  at  the  window !" 

Havard  ran  to  the  door  and  gazed  into  the  dark- 
ness, but  nothing  met  his  eye  except  the  familiar 
trees,  and  the  domestic  articles  scattered  about  the 
yard  by  the  marauders.  He  explored  the  yard  quite 
thoroughly,  looked  into  the  barnyard  and  the  road, 
but  saw  no  person.  The  moon  was  still  shedding 
its  gentle  light  upon  the  eastern  hills,  but  it  was 
now  behind  Mount  Misery,  and  the  gates  of  the 
gap  were  only  semi-visible.  The  smell  of  burnt 
wood  was  very  noticeable,  but  there  was  not  even  a 
dull  glare  above  the  sites  of  the  ill-fated  forge  and 
mill. 

He  could  but  return  into  the  house  with  the  report 
that  he  had  seen  no  person,  and  was  inclined  to 
think  that  his  mother  had  been  nervously  unstrung 
by  the  happenings  of  the  day,  and  that  she  had 
imagined  the  face.  He  was  too  courteous  to  suggest 
this  surmise,  but  his  questions  conveyed  a  hint  of 
it  to  her.  She  mildly  said : 

"Havard,  I  saw  a  man's  face  at  the  window.  It 
was  not  close  against  the  pane,  and  I  think  the  fel- 
low supposed  it  could  not  be  seen  at  the  distance  he 
kept  it ;  but  I  am  sure  that  it  was  the  face  of  a  man." 

"Perhaps,  mother,  you  can  tell  if  it  was  that  of 
a  stranger,  or  whether  it  resembled  a  face  known  to 
us." 

"I  cannot  tell  whose  it  was ;  but  it  bore  a  strong 
resemblance  to  a  face  we  know." 

Quite  aroused,  Havard  bent  toward  his  mother, 
and  inquired,  "Whose?" 


LOYALTY  AND  LOVE  97 

"Mind,  I  cannot  say  certainly,  for  resemblances 
go  astray  very  often,  but  the  features  were  exceed- 
ingly like  those  of  William  Tryon." 

Now  indeed  was  Havard  electrified;  and  there 
flashed  upon  him  the  recollection  that  he  had  fancied 
a  figure  hovering  about  the  landing  place  of  the 
boat  that  evening,  which  he  had  dismissed  from  his 
mind,  because  he  saw  it  no  more. 

He  was  puzzled  to  know  what  it  could  mean. 
That  there  were  grave  doubts  of  Tryon's  loyalty 
to  the  Colonial  cause  Havard  was  well  aware ;  sinis- 
ter rumors  had  spread  relative  to  his  connection 
with  certain  information  secured  by  the  British, 
but  granting  that  they  were  true,  there  was  some- 
thing very  strange  in  this  nocturnal  and  secret,  pry- 
ing visit. 

Havard's  eyes  were  not  long  off  Ethel's  face, 
and  while  he  was  stealing  a  glance  at  it  during  this 
conversation  he  thought  he  recognized  a  meaning 
expression  on  it — if  not  indeed  a  faint  smile. 

A  lover's  eyes,  though  often  blind,  are  sometimes 
keen,  and  Havard  asked  Ethel  what  was  passing  in 
her  mind.  She  evaded  the  query,  which  made  him 
still  more  curious.  Again  she  parried  the  inquiry, 
but  it  escaped  her  at  last  that  she  knew  Tryon 
quite  well,  and  could  have  recognized  him  had  she 
seen  the  face  at  the  window. 

Havard's  perceptions  became  more  acute.  "Pos- 
sibly," he  thought,  "he  has  been  a  suitor  of  hers!" 
And  Havard  was  jealous. 

Perhaps  Ethel  thought  it  scarcely  seemly  to  tell 
of  Tryon's  attentions,  but  Havard  managed  to  infer, 


98  VALLEY  FORGE 

from  the  little  she  hinted,  that  Tryon  had  sought  her 
favor. 

But  the  sensations  of  the  evening  were  not  yet 
ended.  A  half  hour  after  the  incident  a  tap  was 
heard  at  the  kitchen  door,  and  when  it  was  opened 
there  stepped  into  the  room,  to  the  especial  astonish- 
ment of  Havard  Brown,  the  person  of  Colonel  Alex- 
ander Hamilton. 

"So  it  was  you  who  looked  in  at  the  window, 
was  it,  Colonel  ?" 

The  officer  smiled.  "No,"  replied  he,  "at  least 
not  at  the  time  to  which  I  presume  you  refer." 

Havard  recovered  from  his  amazement  sufficiently 
to  introduce  his  guest  to  his  mother  and  Miss  Thom- 
son, both  of  whom  received  him  with  quiet  grace, 
and  then  resumed  his  inquiries. 

"We  have  been  concealed  to-day  in  the  enemy's 
land,"  said  Hamilton.  "There  was  no  way  of 
escape  after  the  dragoons  came  down  on  us  in  such 
force,  and  they  have  been  scouring  the  whole 
country.  We  saw  the  burning  of  the  forge  and  the 
mill  from  yonder  high  hill." 

Mrs.  Brown  exclaimed  that  she  had  noticed  mov- 
ing forms  near  that  spot  from  which  her  son  had 
sought  to  view  the  battle  ground  of  the  previous 
week,  but  she  had  taken  them  to  be  those  of  the 
enemy  looking  for  more  victims. 

The  colonel  explained  that  his  little  band  had  kept 
vigilant  watch  upon  the  movements  of  the  various 
groups  of  the  British  during  the  day,  and  that  the 
coming  across  the  river  of  Havard  and  Miss  Thom- 
son was  known  to  them,  as  also  the  presence  of  a 


LOYALTY  AND  LOVE  99 

stranger  near  the  stream.  The  latter  had  been  fol- 
lowed because  his  movements  were  suspicious,  and 
he  had  been  seen  to  look  in  at  the  kitchen  window. 
Havard's  search  had  also  been  observed,  but  it  was 
deemed  best  to  follow  the  spy,  if  spy  he  was,  to  a 
thoroughly  safe  distance  before  making  any  dis- 
closures. This  had  been  done,  and  the  scout  had 
returned,  reporting  the  fellow  far  on  his  way  to  the 
eastward. 

Mrs.  Brown  hospitably  invited  the  colonel  to 
remain  for  the  night.  But  that  officer  explained  that 
it  was  necessary  to  cross  the  river  and  rejoin  Wash- 
ington before  the  enemy  could  prevent.  If  the 
crossing  were  unguarded  by  the  British  to-night,  as 
he  thought  it  was  from  his  reconnoitering,  he  would 
get  his  detachment  across.  But  he  gratefully  ate 
the  supper  which  Mrs.  Brown  hurriedly  provided. 

Havard  suggested  the  boat  in  which  he  had 
brought  Ethel  from  the  opposite  shore ;  but  Hamil- 
ton responded  that  he  would  try  the  ford,  in  view 
of  the  fact  that  they  were  mounted  and  had  some 
baggage. 

An  hour  later — it  was  now  midnight,  and  the 
moon  had  sunk  behind  the  Schuylkill  hills — a  little 
company  of  horsemen  pierced  the  river  shadows  at 
Fatland  Ford,  and  passed  safely  over  into  liberty. 


CHAPTER  X 
A  TALE  OF  TRESPASS 

THE  morning  uncurtained  new  thoughts.  Mrs. 
Brown  and  her  son  were  brought  face  to  face  with 
the  realities  of  the  situation.  The  stock  had  van- 
ished, Havard's  much  prized  Saladin  included. 
The  barn  had  been  practically  emptied  of  its  con- 
tents, the  whole  constituting  a  heavy  loss.  For- 
tunately, the  fall  seeding  had  been  accomplished,  and 
a  rick  of  hay  remained  undisturbed,  while  one  cow 
at  pasture  in  a  secluded  field  had  been  overlooked. 

Foreseeing  the  possibility  of  such  a  calamitous 
circumstance,  Havard  had  taken  care  to  secrete  a 
sum  of  money  sufficient  to  temporarily  reassure  him 
and  his  mother  in  time  of  need.  It  was  in  shining 
guineas,  and  was  hidden  in  a  hole  in  the  foundation 
of  the  house.  Even  the  burning  of  the  premises 
could  not  have  endangered  the  treasure,  for  the  cel- 
lar rocks  were  of  remarkable  thickness,  and  the 
receptacle  was  cunningly  concealed  from  view. 

At  breakfast  the  abnormal  doings  of  the  day 
previous  were  not  so  fully  discussed,  with  the  con- 
sequence that  both  Havard  and  Ethel — now  neces- 
sarily more  self-conscious — were  somewhat  embar- 
rassed. Mrs.  Brown  perhaps  became  a  factor  in 
producing  this  feeling. 

"Do  you  think  that  it  will  be  safe  to  attempt  to 


A  TALE  OF  TRESPASS  101 

go  home  to  Uncle  John  Bull's  to-day?"  asked  Ethel 
of  Havard  before  the  meal  had  proceeded  far. 

Havard  was  disposed  to  prolong  a  stay  so  agree- 
able to  him  as  much  as  possible,  and  responded  that 
there  might  be  troops  lingering  in  the  neighborhood 
who  would  give  them  annoyance,  possibly  the  very 
band  that  had  behaved  so  rudely  yesterday. 

Ethel,  feeling  that  her  friends  would  be  in  a  great 
fright  concerning  her  safety,  appeared  so  determined 
to  make  the  effort,  that  Mrs.  Brown  came  to  her 
rescue,  and  advised  that  Havard  take  some  steps 
toward  ascertaining  the  actual  state  of  affairs. 

The  sound  of  iron-shod  hoofs  was  heard  on  the 
stones  outside,  and  when  Havard  rose  to  learn  the 
cause,  his  heart  sinking  at  the  prospect  of  meeting 
some  redcoats,  to  his  unfeigned  pleasure  he  saw 
Saladin,  saddled  and  bridled,  but  with  broken  rein 
and  riderless.  Whence  he  had  come  could  not  be 
ascertained,  of  course,  but  the  horse  received  a 
welcome  that  was  almost  an  ovation.  He  came  up 
to  his  master  with  eagerness,  as  though  his  intelli- 
gent brain  comprehended  it  all,  rubbed  his  nose  upon 
Havard's  face,  and  whinnied  in  superlative  delight. 

The  animal  had  doubtless  been  out  all  night,  and 
as  burs  were  attached  to  his  unkempt  hide  Havard 
supposed  he  had  broken  away  on  the  other  side  of  the 
river,  while  picketed,  and  found  his  way  through 
rough  country  to  the  Swedes'  Ford,  crossing  there 
early  in  the  morning. 

Havard  noticed  that  the  saddle  was  of  fine  work- 
manship, and  the  saddlebags  plump.  He  did  not 
hesitate  to  open  the  latter,  in  which  he  found  some 


IO2  VALLEY  FORGE 

papers  and  a  substantial  sum  of  money,  which,  if 
not  reclaimed,  would  partially  compensate  him  for 
his  losses. 

He  was  astonished  to  discover  that  the  papers 
consisted  of  memoranda  of  the  settlement,  the  loca- 
tion of  certain  houses,  names  of  property  owners, 
and  data  regarding  each  that  none  but  a  resident 
could  furnish.  No  name  was  signed,  but  Havard 
fancied  that  he  could  identify  the  penmanship. 
Nor  was  it  any  impeachment  of  his  conclusions, 
when,  later,  he  found  a  letter  referring  to  the  infor- 
mation that  "Tryon"  had  supplied,  and  its  relia- 
bility. "Enough  to  hang  him,  if  Washington  knew 
it,"  he  said  to  himself. 

It  was  bitter  to  believe  that  a  man  could  turn 
upon  his  neighbors  after  this  fashion.  Havard  was 
just,  and  conceded  to  everyone  the  right  to  think 
and  conclude  upon  the  question  of  loyalty  to  the 
Crown.  He  found  no  fault  with  his  neighbor  for 
his  Tory  principles,  but  could  not  comprehend  how 
he  could  become  an  informer  upon  those  whom  he 
had  known  from  childhood.  Into  this  analysis  did 
not  enter  the  feature  of  personal  relationship  with 
reference  to  Ethel,  although  Havard  could  not  help 
wondering  if  that  increased  Tryon's  enmity  to  him. 

As  Ethel  insisted  upon  going  to  Colonel  Bull's, 
Havard  made  such  preparations  as  were  necessary. 
He  knew  no  other  plan  than  to  put  his  mother's 
saddle  on  Saladin  for  the  fair  traveler,  and  to  walk 
at  her  side — unless  she  would  occupy  a  pillion  behind 
him.  But  Ethel  stoutly  persisted  in  walking,  for 
she  feared  that  the  petted  horse  was  in  danger  of 


A  TALE  OF  TRESPASS  103 

being  retaken.  She  trusted  that  some  mode  of 
transit  of  the  ford  would  turn  up. 

But  Ethel  was  not  destined  to  essay  her  pedes- 
trian powers  that  day,  because  of  the  communication 
of  a  peddler  to  whom  both  Mrs.  Brown  and  her  son 
paid  respectful  attention. 

Heinrich  Kichenheim,  merchant,  bore  upon  his 
back  a  pack  which  would  have  been  the  despair  of 
an  ordinary  man;  yet,  though  he  perspired  freely, 
and  constantly  wiped  his  brow  with  a  red  handker- 
chief, he  carried  it  cheerfully. 

"Goot  mornings,  Miss  Brown;  it  was  wery  hot 
to-day  efen  in  the  shade  of  the  pig  oaks !" 

Mrs.  Brown  smiled  and  said:  "Yes,  the  day 
promises  to  be  quite  warm  before  we  get  through 
with  it.  What  has  thee  to-day  in  the  way  of  tempt- 
ing things?" 

"Efferytings,  Miss  Brown,  that  a  person  needs 
for  a  house.  Combs,  brushes,  looking-glasses,  shav- 
ing muks,  buttins,  thread,  needles,  pins,  pocketbooks, 
handkerchiefs,  linen,  tablecloths,  covers,  shoes,  tin- 
ware, caps,  scissors,  shawls,  ruks,  stockings,  knives 
— most  anydings  you  want." 

"But,  Friend  Kichenheim  (she  pronounced  it 
Kickenheim),  how  are  we  to  pay  for  goods  now, 
since  the  soldiers  have  taken  all  we  have?" 

"Yah,  yah,"  responded  the  honest  peddler,  "I 
know  dat  you  have  suffered  mooch  yesterday ;  it  was 
bad,  bad,  indeed.  But  den  you  haf  not  suffered  so 
much  as  some  odders.  Dere  was  Squire  Bull,  he 
was  purned  out  yesterday,  and  all  his  goots  go  away 
mit  dem  soldiers." 


IO4  VALLEY  FORGE 

Havard  pricked  up  his  ears,  looked  at  his  mother, 
and  then  at  Ethel,  who  had  not  caught  the  remark. 

"What,  has  Squire  Bull  been  hurt?" 

"Ach,  no,  not  de  squire  himself,  because  he  no 
stay  at  home  to  be  hurt;  he  clear  himself  away 
before  de  British  come,  but  dey  burn  his  house  and 
barn,  and  dey  carry  away  all  de  stock  mit  dem." 

Ethel  comprehended,  and  this  fact  annihilated  the 
possibility  of  finding  refuge  at  her  aunt's. 

Very  thoughtfully  Mrs.  Brown  inquired,  "Where 
are  the  family  ?" 

The  peddler  answered,  "Dey  are  gone  oop  to  de 
Treppe,  to  de  old  prediger  Muhlenberg's,  where  de 
Thomson  family  too  is  gone.  Dey  were,  too, 
burned  out  yesterday,  but  some  neighbors  took  dem 
oop  dere,  all  but  de  young  lady  as  wisited  dem  from 
Philadelphy.  She  runned  ofd  to  de  nachbar's,  to 
get  out  of  de  road  of  de  scamps." 

The  itinerant  merchant  was  a  reliable  encyclo- 
pedia on  all  subjects  that  related  to  the  countryside. 
His  statements  were  invariably  accepted,  because  he 
was  careful  to  obtain  credible  data  and  transmit  it 
as  particularly. 

Havard  was  sure  that  if  there  had  been  any 
anxious  concern  entertained  about  Ethel  by  her 
uncle's  family  it  would  have  been  circulated,  and  the 
peddler  would  have  mentioned  it;  but  he  inquired 
still  further  of  the  man  of  the  pack,  who  responded 
that  it  was  expected  by  the  family  that  Ethel  would 
return  to  the  city  with  the  Corsons,  the  friends  with 
whom  she  had  taken  shelter,  and  who  often  went 
to  town.  For  the  present,  he  said,  the  road  on  the 


A  TALE  OF  TRESPASS  105 

other  side  of  the  river  was  occupied  by  the 
soldiers,  and  that  there  would  be  scarcely  any 
use  of  it  by  civilians  until  the  army  found  quarters 
in  town. 

So  it  eventuated  that  Ethel  was  obliged  to  spend 
a  few  days  in  the  home  of  her  lover. 

The  good  peddler  was  made  happy  by  the  sale  of 
some  household  articles,  and,  rearranging  his  pack, 
took  up  his  line  of  march  for  the  Potts  house,  down 
the  creek. 

But  Havard  escorted  him  to  the  road,  and  held 
a  long  confidential  conversation  with  him,  in  which 
the  name  of  Tryon  could  have  been  distinguished  by 
one  close  at  his  elbow.  The  peddler  declared  that 
Tryon  aided  and  abetted  the  enemy,  for  he  had  had 
his  eye  upon  him  for  some  time;  and  as  he  visited 
the  British  camp  with  impunity,  to  sell  his  wares, 
he  had  personally  seen  him  in  close  consultation  with 
leading  officers. 

There  seemed  to  be  no  doubt  of  Tryon's  guilt — 
unless,  as  Havard  charitably  conceived,  he  might  be 
an  agent  of  Washington  in  disguise.  But  Havard 
determined  to  keep  his  thoughts  to  himself,  lest  they 
might  do  harm. 

It  need  not  be  said  that  he  did  not  regard  it  as 
an  unfavorable  dispensation  that  permitted  him  to 
enjoy  several  days  more  of  Ethel's  society. 

His  mother  could  not  but  observe  the  state  of 
affairs.  In  a  sense  it  was  not  a  surprise,  for  it  was 
to  be  expected — yes,  it  was  to  be  hoped — that  Ha- 
vard would  some  time  "fall  in  love."  But  the  sud- 
denness did  surprise  her.  Having  come  to  mature 


io6  VALLEY  FORGE 

years,  when  she  could  distinguish  the  glamour  and 
glitter  from  the  substantiate,  she  had  come  to  expect 
that  her  son  would  be  gifted  with  the  same  dis- 
cretion. She  forgot  the  impulsiveness  of  youth,  and 
the  power  of  a  first  affection. 

She  was  all  kindness  to  Ethel,  and  yet  she  did  not 
know  what  to  decide  about  her.  That  the  girl  was 
lovely  in  person  there  could  be  no  denial.  In  fact, 
to  the  eye  she  was  faultless.  And  yet  Mrs.  Brown 
wondered  if  she  were  altogether  suited  to  Havard. 
They  had  been  brought  up  in  different  channels  of 
thought,  with  variant  likings  and  leanings — that 
was  very  evident.  The  ways  of  the  fashion-world 
were  attractive  to  Ethel,  the  deeper  things  of  life 
had  not  yet  fastened  upon  her.  True,  maturity  and 
experience  might  confer  a  taste  for  them,  but  to 
commence  a  union  under  such  circumstances  was 
not  auspicious — so  mused  the  motherly  heart. 

It  was  but  a  little  while,  to  be  sure,  that  Ethel 
spent  beneath  the  roof  of  the  Browns,  and  one 
needed  a  longer  period  to  pass  upon  so  grave  a  mat- 
ter. But  Ethel  herself  evinced  so  little  of  that  tender 
regard  that  we  call  love  that  Mrs.  Brown  was  per- 
plexed. Her  son's  manner  left  no  room  for  doubt 
as  to  the  status  of  the  case  as  far  as  it  related  to 
him ;  but  Mrs.  Brown  could  perceive  no  deep  answer- 
ing tone  in  the  words  or  conduct  of  Ethel. 

However,  that  was  perhaps  to  develop  more 
slowly.  Havard  had  evidently  been  in  a  hurry  to 
exhibit  his  preference — for  Mrs.  Brown  could  not 
recall  any  instance  of  their  meeting  previous  to  that 
Sunday  at  Saint  Peter's.  Maybe  Ethel's  love — if 


A  TALE  OF  TRESPASS  107 

it  unfolded  at  all — would  be  all  the  richer  and  more 
enduring  for  its  slow  growth. 

But  there  was  another  factor  in  Mrs.  Brown's 
philosophy.  She  had  almost  counted  it  as  a  cer- 
tainty that  Frances  Jones  would  become  her 
daughter  some  day.  She  was  an  admirer  of  this 
lovable  girl,  and  having  known  her  from  infancy 
was  well  acquainted  with  the  fixed  traits  of  her 
character.  She  had  been  well  pleased  to  observe 
the  childish  intimacy  between  her  boy  and  Frances, 
and  rejoiced  that  it  seemed  to  strengthen  as  the  years 
grew.  Therefore  she  was  disappointed,  and  per- 
haps this  prejudiced  her  somewhat  against  Ethel. 
Thus  reasoning,  the  good  maternal  mind  and  heart 
endeavored  to  show  both  Havard  and  Ethel  fair 
play. 

Was  there  no  obtrusion  of  Frances  Jones  in  Ha- 
vard's  mind  during  this  season  of  bliss  ?  I  trow  not. 
There  had  been,  as  we  have  seen,  a  slightly  uncom- 
fortable thought  of  her ;  but  Havard  was  fascinated 
with  a  present  object,  and  all  else  was  forgotten. 
It  cannot  be  surmised  what  he  might  have  thought 
had  he  chanced  to  meet  Frances,  but  the  commotion 
of  the  British  occupation,  and  the  unexpected 
rencontre  with  Ethel,  sufficed  for  the  time  at  least 
to  banish  Frances  altogether  from  his  mind.  Per- 
haps he  would  have  to  pay  up  for  it  sometime,  but 
for  the  ethereal  present  all  else  was  sacrificed  to  his 
adoration  of  Ethel  Thomson. 

All  the  time  that  could  be  devoted  to  the  enter- 
tainment of  so  cherished  a  guest  was  given  by  Ha- 
vard. Noticing  that  her  eye  was  pleased  by  the 


loS  VALLEY  FORGE 

romantic  haunts  about  Mount  Joy,  he  took  pains 
to  point  out  to  her  the  most  attractive  of  them.  The 
walk  along  the  creek  seemed  to  be  the  favorite. 
The  narrow  stream,  winding  through  the  graceful 
gap,  had  an  especial  charm  for  her.  There  were 
spots  where  she  paused  to  catch  the  effect  of  the 
sunshine  upon  the  sides  of  the  chasm,  and  others 
where  the  curving  hills  seemed  to  tower  in  wild 
beauty. 

The  ruins  of  the  forge  and  the  mill  were  a  blur 
upon  the  fair  scene.  The  forge  had  lent  a  certain 
picturesqueness  to  the  gorge,  for  its  sooty  frame 
comported  with  the  dark  stone  that  so  plentifully 
covered  both  hills,  and  the  mill  did  not  offend  the 
eye  because  of  its  general  quaintness.  But  now  the 
blackened  debris  about  the  roofless  walls  testified  of 
desolation. 

Down  by  the  stone  dwelling  of  the  Potts  family 
they  strolled ;  sometimes  they  crossed  the  creek  and 
ascended  the  long  slope  that  led  westward.  There 
were  bypaths  veering  off  to  the  south  up  the  North 
Valley  Hill,  where  channels  were  cut  in  the  sand- 
stone by  the  flow  of  crystal  springs  gushing  out  from 
the  hillside.  There  were  also  viewpoints  where 
the  distant  hills  could  be  seen,  with  the  blue 
haze  perpetually  hanging  upon  them  and  a  low 
range  of  mountains  crossing  the  Schuylkill  far 
above. 

There  was  a  pleasing  walk  by  the  river,  and  little 
dells  opening  upon  it.  Up  the  stream  was  the  mouth 
of  the  Perkiomen,  where  afterward  Audubon  lived 
and  sketched;  and  here  birds  collected  in  great 


A  TALE  OF  TRESPASS  109 

numbers,  and  made  the  shady  haunts  in  the  thick 
groves  vocal  with  their  melody. 

Before  the  week  was  ended  Havard  was  dismayed 
one  afternoon  to  hear  the  clatter  of  hoofs  in  the 
roadway.  His  sense  did  not  deceive  him — it  was  a 
body  of  dragoons.  An  officer  dismounted  and 
approached  the  house.  Havard  met  him,  and  civilly 
invited  him  into  the  parlor. 

"I  am  Captain  John  Andre,"  said  the  officer, 
whose  suavity  made  an  agreeable  impression.  "I 
am  on  the  hunt  of  some  property  I  have  lost,  and 
will  be  indebted  to  you  for  any  information  you  can 
give." 

Havard  suspected  what  was  coming,  but  he 
calmly  inquired,  "What  sort  of  property  was  it, 
sir;  and  how  have  you  lost  it?" 

"A  horse  which  I  had  recently  obtained  broke 
away  from  me,  and  carried  with  him  a  saddle  and 
bags,  the  latter  containing  a  roll  of  guineas." 

"Have  you  visited  the  place  where  you  purchased 
the  animal?" 

The  officer's  manner  was  now  uneasy.  "The  fact 
is,"  said  he,  "the  animal  was  confiscated  as  belonging 
to  a  person  in  rebellion  against  his  majesty.  I 
appropriated  him  to  my  own  use,  as  suited  to  my 
purpose.  I  understood  that  he  had  been  taken  in 
this  vicinity — that  is,  within  two  or  three  miles  of 
this  place,  and  supposed  that  he  might  have  escaped 
to  his  home." 

Havard  looked  hard  at  the  captain  without 
responding.  Probably  the  officer  divined  his 
thoughts,  for  he  said :  "Of  course,  if  the  animal  has 


no  VALLEY  FORGE 

been  taken  unjustly  I  will  restore  him,  if  I  find  him ; 
although  I  would  prefer  to  have  him  for  my  own 
use.  But  I  expressly  want  some  papers  that  are  in 
the  saddlebags,  and  also  the  money  contained  in 
them." 

"Sir,"  said  Havard,  "we  have  suffered  much  in 
this  quarter  from  the  doings  of  your  soldiers.  Our 
stock  has  been  taken  away,  our  valuables  seized, 
and  our  grain  and  hay  have  been  confiscated." 

Captain  Andre  interrupted  him :  "I  regret  to  hear 
such  an  account  as  this,  and  trust  that  your  state- 
ment is  a  little  stronger  than  the  circumstances  war- 
rant. It  was  not  the  intention  of  Sir  William  Howe 
to  confiscate  the  property  of  any  but  avowed  rebels 
against  the  Crown.  If  any  wrongs  have  been  perpe- 
trated I  promise  you  that  they  shall  be  righted  upon 
application  to  him." 

Havard  inquired,  "Shall  I  have  redress  for  the 
stock  taken  from  my  farm?" 

"Certainly ;  if  you  have  not  been  in  arms  against 
the  king.  General  Howe  will  pay  your  claim  for  any 
depredations  upon  the  part  of  foragers.  He  is 
extremely  careful  about  such  matters." 

"Well,"  said  Havard,  "upon  the  assurance  of  such 
redress  I  will  give  you  information  concerning  your 
property.  My  own  horse  was  taken  from  the  stable 
by  some  of  your  men,  and  next  day  he  returned 
with  a  strange  saddle  and  bridle,  and  a  pair  of 
saddlebags  containing  the  articles  you  speak  of.  I 
will  take  pleasure  in  returning  what  belongs  to  you." 

So  saying  Havard  went  to  the  attic  and  procured 
the  saddle,  which  he  laid  upon  the  floor,  and  then 


A  TALE  OF  TRESPASS  in 

requested  the  captain  to  examine  the  contents.  The 
latter  hastily  glanced  at  the  papers,  and,  opening 
the  roll  of  coin,  discovered  that  all  was  right. 

"I  thank  you  exceedingly,"  he  said  to  Havard, 
"and  shall  be  your  debtor  in  any  way  you  require.'' 

But  Havard  responded,  "I  wish  no  other  recog- 
nition than  that  you  first  mentioned — the  restora- 
tion of  what  was  taken  from  me  by  the  soldiers,  or 
compensation  for  it." 

The  captain  opened  a  little  blank  book  and 
inquired  the  value  of  the  abstractions,  which  Havard 
gave  with  scrupulous  care,  so  as  not  to  exceed  the 
proper  amount.  Andre  noticed  this,  and,  affixing 
the  same  sums,  he  cast  up  the  entire  amount,  more 
than  two  hundred  pounds,  asked  if  it  were  satis- 
factory to  Mr.  Brown,  and  then,  drawing  up  an 
order  upon  the  paymaster,  he  handed  it  to  him, 
and  was  about  to  pass  away,  when  he  suddenly 
turned  on  his  heel  and  said :  "Mr.  Brown,  are  you 
sure  that  an  offer  for  your  horse  would  be  unavail- 
ing? I  should  greatly  like  to  possess  the  animal." 

But  Havard  shook  his  head.  He  could  not  part 
with  Saladin,  especially  in  view  of  his  latest 
service. 

With  a  polite  bow  the  young  officer  left  the 
premises,  and  rejoined  his  body  of  horse.  Soon 
he  was  speeding  away  toward  the  social  attractions 
of  the  Quaker  City. 

It  was  a  godsend  to  Havard,  and  through  him 
to  other  sufferers ;  for  he  took  care  to  tell  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Howe's  willingness  to  meet  all  claims 
for  trespass,  except  of  course,  in  the  cases  of  those 


H2  VALLEY  FORGE 

in  open  rebellion.  And  yet  the  ruin  wrought  in 
Tredyffrin  township  was  so  great  that  the  combined 
claims  of  its  citizens  for  reimbursement  by  the 
Congress  amounted  to  a  round  ten  thousand 
pounds ! 

On  Saturday  Havard  had  occasion  to  run  up  to 
a  neighbor's,  residing  on  the  road  to  Gordon's  Ford. 
As  usual  Saladin  accompanied  his  master,  who  pat- 
ted his  treasure  endearingly,  in  self-gratulation  at 
the  remarkable  restoration  of  his  lost  favorite.  Up 
the  rise  to  the  west  of  Valley  Creek  they  climbed, 
and  then  descended  again  toward  Jug  Hollow, 
where  Saladin  was  accustomed  to  plunge  his  nostrils 
in  a  fine  stream  flowing  from  the  North  Valley 
Hill.  While  the  horse  drank,  his  rider  scanned  the 
mountain  side — for  such  it  seemed  to  him  who  had 
never  gazed  upon  greater  elevations.  He  was  now 
on  the  north  side  of  the  Hill,  having  emerged  from 
the  gap  at  the  ford  over  Valley  Creek ;  and  even  the 
extraordinary  adventures  of  the  last  week  could  not 
make  him  oblivious  to  the  beauty  of  the  deep  concave 
curve  of  Mount  Misery. 

He  recalled  the  pleasurable  emotion  of  his  recent 
climb  with  Ethel  to  the  sandstone  spring  far  up  on 
the  heights,  and  the  beautiful  view  of  the  Never- 
sinks  near  the  town  of  Reading.  He  was  disposed 
to  dream  during  these  days,  and  he  regretted  his 
inability  to  remember  in  which  of  the  "Fortunate 
Islands"  he  was  luxuriating,  when  the  more  prac- 
tical Saladin,  who  could  drink  no  more  of  his 
favorite  brook,  pricked  up  his  ears  and  snorted  a 
^challenge  to  an  approaching  cavalcade.  His  mas- 


A  TALE  OF  TRESPASS  113 

ter's  return  voyage  to  the  land  of  the  real  was 
exceedingly  expeditious,  and  not  unaccompanied 
with  dismay,  since  he  supposed  that  he  should  have 
to  encounter  some  lingering  redcoat  troop.  But 
what  was  his  astonishment  to  discover  a  motley 
crowd  of  farmers  and  laborers,  armed  with  weapons 
of  all  sorts,  some  of  them  approved  instruments  of 
warfare,  and  others  as  unmilitary  as  the  scythe,  or 
pitchfork. 

The  surprise  appeared  to  be  mutual,  nor  did  the 
improvised  soldiery  exhibit  an  over-readiness  to 
announce  their  mission.  Havard  saw  that  the  more 
substantial  men  of  the  neighborhood  were  sparsely 
represented,  and  divined  that  some  mischief  was 
brewing.  The  self -nominated  leader  of  the  party, 
a  man  who  had  only  within  a  year  or  two  come  up 
from  the  southern  border,  accosted  Havard  with  an 
air  of  familiarity : 

"I  say,  Brown,  ye'll  want  to  turn  in  and  have  a 
whack  at  this  job,  now,  won't  ye?" 

Where  had  Havard  heard  that  voice  before? 
It  seemed  to  him  but  a  little  while  since  it  had 
sounded  in  his  ears.  While  he  was  endeavoring  to 
recall  the  circumstance  the  fellow  spoke  again : 

"Ye're  right  in  with  us,  I  reckon,  Brown.  The 
Britishers  haint  let  you  go  scot  free,  I'll  be  bound, 
'en  ye  kin  settle  up  the  score  with  a  bit  o'  interest  to 
boot." 

Havard  was  inclined  to  be  reserved  in  manner 
with  the  rude  partisan,  whose  free  style  of  address 
was  all  the  more  obnoxious  because  it  was  evident 
that  the  speaker  had  been  wetting  his  whistle  with 


ai4  VALLEY  FORGE 

potations  much  stronger  than  those  of  the  sandstone 
spring.  But  he  responded : 

"I  do  not  know  what  business  calls  you  out  to-day, 
so  I  cannot  tell  what  interest  I  may  have  in  it" 

"Dang  it,  Brown,  have  ye  forgotten  th'  old  man 
in  his  'ristycrat  gig  t'other  day,  up  't  Peggy's?" 

Havard  saw  it  all  now,  he  thought.  Yes,  he 
recollected  how  when  Judge  Moore  stopped  to  con- 
verse with  him  at  Peggy's  corner  this  loud  fellow 
declared  the  Tory  ought  to  be  mobbed.  He  could 
guess  the  motive  for  the  movement  then  in  progress. 

"I  suppose  you  allude  to  Judge  Moore." 

"The  very  same  old  codger,  dang  his  old  beard. 
We're  going  to  wipe  him  up,  sure  's  persimmons. 
We  haint  got  no  room  f'r  that  kind  o*  varmint  in 
this  yer  kentry.  Will  ye  jine  the  band?" 

Havard  was  in  a  predicament.  The  very  fact 
that  such  a  fellow  was  at  the  head  of  the  enterprise 
was  proof  that  his  followers  were  of  no  better 
material,  and  would  probably  not  submit  to  reason. 
Yet  he  thought  it  unwise  to  say,  "No,"  for  he  might 
yet  prove  of  some  use  to  his  old  friend.  While  he 
hesitated  to  reply,  he  was  informed  that  the  move- 
ment began  at  Peggy's  after  the  party  had  been  well 
plied  with  beer  and  ardent  spirits.  Perhaps,  because 
Peggy  was  aware  that  certain  sinister  transactions 
had  linked  her  name  with  that  of  Will  Tryon  in 
the  gossip  of  the  neighborhood,  she  felt  it  policy  to 
urge  on  the  tipsy  patriots  to  punish  a  British  sym- 
pathizer. Her  voice  and  that  of  Nancy  Mawhort 
had  been  loudly  exerted  in  this  direction:  and, 
whether  Tory  or  Whig  prevailed,  the  till  of  the 


A  TALE  OF  TRESPASS  115 

"inn"  would  be  all  the  richer,  she  cunningly 
reasoned. 

A  closer  scanning  of  the  company  showed  Havard 
that  it  must  have  been  reinforced  materially  after 
starting  from  Peggy's;  for  some  of  his  compara- 
tively near  neighbors  were  numbered  with  it,  among 
them  men  who  were  of  much  better  grade  than  the 
habitual  bibulous  loungers  under  the  catalpas  on  the 
Lancaster  road.  It  occurred  to  him  that  it  were  well 
to  cultivate  these  latter ;  and  so,  with  a  remark  that 
included  no  committal  to  the  purposes  of  the  Vigi- 
lantes, he  brought  up  their  rear. 

At  least  two  miles  of  roadway  were  yet  to  be 
traversed  before  Moore  Hall  would  greet  the  eyes 
of  the  noisy  civilians:  and  while  riding  over  the 
comparatively  level  ground  after  ascending  the  first 
hill — whose  red  soil  was  dry  and  dusty — Havard 
felt  his  way  in  argument  with  the  better  people  of 
the  party.  Unfortunately,  these  were  rankling  with 
the  recollection  of  their  losses  at  the  hands  of 
Howe's  foragers,  and  were  in  no  mood  to  be  merci- 
ful. Yet  Havard  made  a  helpful  point  now  and 
then,  and  in  the  main  strengthened  his  cause.  He 
was  encouraged  to  believe  that  with  more  time  at 
his  disposal  he  would  be  able  to  defeat  any  vengeful 
steps.  However,  the  crowd  having  received  some 
more  accessions  among  the  Judge's  own  neighbors, 
it  was  not  long  ere  it  came  in  sight  of  the  sought-for 
mansion  on  the  other  side  of  Pickering  Creek;  and 
when  it  was  pointed  out  to  the  ignorant  leader  he 
called  a  halt  and  exclaimed : 

"Yon's  the  foul  nest  of  the  old  British  hawk; 


u6  VALLEY  FORGE 

now,  boys,  ye  know  yer  duty.  Le's  make  the  old 
man  sweat!" 

Moore  Hall  stood  on  the  right  bank  of  the 
Schuylkill,  and  commanded  a  pleasing  view  of  a 
great  curve  of  that  ever-winding  stream,  and  of  the 
North  Valley  Hill.  It  was  an  ambitious  residence 
for  that  day ;  and  its  handsome  exterior  was  supple- 
mented with  many  interior  comforts  that  had  been 
transported  across  the  Atlantic. 

It  was  the  Judge  himself  who  opened  the  door 
when  the  Falstaffian  band  made  its  appearance  upon 
his  lawn.  He  had  seen  it  approach,  and  surmised 
trouble. 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  with  a  fine  sneer, 
"you  have  done  me  the  honor  to  call  upon  me,  I 
perceive.  May  I  ask  you  to  receive  the  hospitalities 
of  my  home  ?" 

The  crowd  were  taken  aback  by  this  unlooked-for 
salute.  Unaccustomed  to  close  contact  with  men  of 
the  Judge's  rank,  and  above  all  feeling  uncomfort- 
able upon  such  novel  business,  they  might  have 
retired  abashed,  but  that  their  rough  leader  held 
them  to  the  issue.  Coarsely  the  borderer  opened 
his  mission,  and,  the  blaze  once  started,  the 
fire  burned  hotly  enough.  The  Judge,  who  was 
furious  at  the  insult  and  outrage,  threw  no  water 
upon  it;  but  excoriated  the  band,  holding  it  up  to 
contempt,  and, declaring  his  loyalty  to  the  king.  But 
when  it  developed  that  by  some  he  was  being  held 
to  account  for  complicity  in  the  Paoli  Massacre. 
he  indignantly  turned  upon  his  tormentors  with 
emphatic  denials  and  maledictions. 


A  TALE  OF  TRESPASS  117 

O,  but  it  was  a  brave  sight  to  see  the  venerable 
man  confronting  his  enemies !  His  appearance  was 
leonine,  and  truly  he  was  a  lion  at  bay.  Well  on 
his  way  to  fourscore,  his  eyes  were  undimmed,  and 
now  they  fairly  blazed  with  wrath.  His  long  beard 
was  patriarchal  and  twinges  of  pain  made  his  face 
more  haggard  than  usual. 

Havard  pressed  his  way  through  the  throng,  and 
approached  the  Judge,  who  seemed  amazed  to 
recognize  him  in  such  company.  "You  here,  Ha- 
vard !"  he  exclaimed.  "Is  it  possible  that  you  have 
joined  in  this  insult?" 

"I'm  only  here,  Judge  Moore,  to  protest  against 
this  act,  and  to  do  what  I  can  to  prevent  so  great  a 
wrong/' 

The  Judge  extended  his  hand.  Your  pardon,  my 
boy,"  he  said;  "I  spoke  too  hastily.  I  might  have 
known  that  none  of  your  blood  would  consent  to 
such  dastardly  doings.  I  thank  you,  my  dear  fellow. 
Forgive  my  quick  words." 

"I  need  not  tell  you,  Judge  Moore,  that  my 
sympathies  are  with  the  Colonies,  as  yours  are  with 
the  king.  These  men  know  it  also ;  and  I  beg  them 
to  give  up  their  unholy  purpose  to  harm  you  or  your 
possessions,  and  return  to  their  homes.  Certainly 
they  will  only  regret  the  wrong  after  it  is  done." 

Two  or  three  of  the  cooler  heads  stood  at  Ha- 
vard's  side,  but  they  were  called  "milksops"  by  the 
remainder  of  the  band,  and  as  the  great  majority 
were  bent  upon  pillage  their  counsel  was  of  no  avail. 

It  was  agreed  that  no  harm  should  be  done  to  the 
Judge's  person,  but  that  his  possessions  should  be 


n8  VALLEY  FORGE 

overhauled  and  certain  confiscations  made.  A  dra- 
matic incident  occurred,  when  a  sword  of  rare  work- 
manship and  highly  ornamented  handle  was  discov- 
ered by  one  of  the  ransackers.  The  Judge  snatched 
the  weapon  from  the  hand  of  its  finder,  and,  bending 
to  the  floor  in  a  spasm  of  pain,  stepped  upon  the 
beautiful  blade  and  snapped  it  at  the  handle.  Fling- 
ing the  blade  upon  the  floor  he  thrust  the  handle  in 
his  pocket,  and  told  the  rabble  that  they  might 
possess  the  weapon  if  it  signified  disloyalty,  but  they 
should  not  practice  thievery. 

Proud,  uncompromising  character  that  the  Judge 
seemed,  a  humble  heart  beat  in  his  bosom;  and 
several  generations  have  gratified  his  pious  wish  by 
treading  upon  the  slab  that  covers  his  remains, 
while  passing  in  and  out  of  the  door  of  Old  Saint 
David's  at  Radnor. 

The  crowd  finally  dispersed,  Havard  lingering  to 
the  last  to  put  a  brake  upon  the  wheels  of  pillage, 
and  carrying  to  his  home  the  blessing  of  the  old 
man,  who  was  brave  enough  to  assert  his  con- 
scientious convictions  regardless  of  personal  cost. 


CHAPTER    XI 
THE  DILEMMAS  OF  DIPLOMACY 

ETHEL'S  return  to  Philadelphia  was  arranged  for 
the  following  Tuesday,  and  Havard  rejoiced  that 
Sunday  would  still  be  spent  in  her  company.  That 
they  would  attend  divine  service  somewhere  seemed 
to  be  assumed;  but  the  place  was  not  selected  until 
the  morning  of  the  holy  day. 

Havard  thought  that  it  would  be  peculiarly  pleas- 
ant to  visit  Saint  Peter's ;  but  a  specter  arose  in  the 
path  whose  influence  was  almost  as  potent  as  that  of 
the  angel  that  appeared  to  Balaam's  patient  and 
humble  steed.  He  thought  for  the  first  time  during 
these  days  of  unalloyed  sweetness  of  Frances  Jones ; 
and  the  disquieting  interrogatory  crept  in,  "Shall  I 
meet  her,  if  we  go  to  Saint  Peter's?"  There  was 
even  a  slight  but  unmistakable  tingling  about  his 
ears  as  he  reverted  to  their  happy  friendship,  and  his 
sudden  indifference  to  it.  But  he  argued,  "My  duty 
to  Ethel  is  a  higher  duty,  because  I  love  her  more 
than  any  other  person." 

It  was  not  particular  to  Ethel  whether  she  went 
to  Saint  Peter's  or  to  some  other  house  of  worship. 
Perhaps  she  would  have  remained  in  the  farmhouse 
just  as  willingly.  Candidly,  there  was  little  to 
amuse  her  in  this  plain  country  life,  and  she  craved 

119 


I2O  VALLEY  FORGE 

the  excitement  of  the  city.  The  edge  of  rural 
pleasures  had  been  almost  worn  away;  and  the 
British  occupation  of  Philadelphia  promised  much 
in  the  way  of  novelty.  Occasionally  she  had  a 
serious  thought  regarding  a  possible  residence  in 
this  lonely  spot  with  its  humdrum  life  and  duties, 
and  she  half  rebelled  against  a  union  involving  such 
a  strain  upon  her  predilections. 

Havard  managed  the  affair  very  ingeniously,  con- 
triving to  create  some  curiosity  in  Ethel's  mind  rela- 
tive to  the  Valley  Friends'  Meeting;  and  thither 
they  went,  a  horse  being  borrowed  from  Cousin 
Samuel  Havard. 

Out  into  the  bright  sunshine  and  crisp  air  rode 
the  light-hearted  pair.  Mount  Joy  never  seemed 
more  engaging;  it  was  a  superb  sweep  from  south- 
east to  south.  On  the  Church  road  there  was  a  swell, 
from  which,  looking  back,  the  foot  of  the  great  hill 
was  seen  largely  enhanced  in  beauty.  At  the  forks, 
they  turned  down  the  Swedes'  Ford  road  and 
traversed  the  gently  rolling  floor  until  they  reached 
the  turn  to  the  meeting-house. 

Ethel  would  fain  have  wandered  among  the 
graves,  but  their  uniformity,  and  the  absence  of 
quaint  inscriptions,  disappointed  her.  After  but  little 
delay — especially  as  it  was  near  the  time  for  the 
opening  of  the  meeting — they  entered  the  primitive 
place  of  worship. 

Havard,  who  had  explained  to  Ethel  the  division 
of  the  meeting-house  into  two  parts,  escorted  her 
to  the  door  used  by  the  women,  when  she  followed 
some  of  her  sex  who  were  passing  in,  and  found  a 


THE  DILEMMAS  OF  DIPLOMACY  121 

seat  midway  of  the  room.  Havard's  bench  was 
nearer  the  door. 

It  wanted  but  a  short  while  of  the  hour  fixed  for 
the  meeting,  and  very  soon  there  rested  upon  the 
company  that  perfect  quiet  characteristic  of  Friends' 
gatherings.  The  ministers  and  the  officers,  male  and 
female,  sat  upon  high  seats  facing  their  brethren, 
and  a  serious  expression  pervaded  their  faces. 

The  eyes  that  were  bent  upon  the  floor  were 
apparently  oblivious  of  terrestrial  scenes.  The  faces 
of  the  women,  half  hid  by  their  plain  bonnets,  wore 
a  saintly  aspect ;  and  an  air  of  gravity  sat  upon  the 
broad-brimmed,  venerable  countenances  of  the  men 
preachers  as  they  engaged  in  silent  meditation  and 
prayer. 

It  was  perhaps  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  the 
quiet  was  broken.  Then  Havard  noticed  the  meet- 
ing rising,  whereupon  he,  too,  stood  up.  He 
observed  that  a  minister  was  moved  to  offer  sup- 
plication, which  he  did  upon  his  knees.  It  was  a 
brief,  humble  petition  for  light  and  power.  Soon  the 
congregation  rose  again.  This  time  a  woman  was 
kneeling.  In  a  voice  of  singular  sweetness  she 
besought  the  divine  blessing.  Havard  was  thrilled, 
and  wondered  if  many  people  lived  so  close  to  God 
as  this  choice  spirit.  He  noticed  that  she  quoted 
passages  from  the  Bible  with  unusual  pathos  and 
power.  The  burden  of  her  supplication  was  "that 
the  illumination  of  the  Spirit  might  be  given  to  all 
who  were  out  of  the  ark  of  safety,  that  they  might 
accept  the  true  Light  that  lighteth  every  man  that 
cometh  into  the  world." 


122  VALJ.EY  FORGE 

The  voice  hushed — it  seemed  as  though  an  angel 
had  vanished — and  the  people  resumed  their  seats. 
The  benches  were  stiff  and  plain,  in  keeping  with 
the  entire  apartment ;  but  the  house  was  faultlessly 
clean.  Havard  kept  comparing  this  simplicity  with 
the  elaborate  externals  of  the  Church  service,  and 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  each  alike  seemed  to 
influence  the  heart  divinely.  Presently  a  venerable 
form  arose,  pronounced  a  passage  of  Scripture, 
and  presented  a  message  brimming  with  simplicity, 
plainness,  and  spirituality.  It  was  quite  brief,  but 
pointed  and  apposite. 

Havard  had  rarely  given  such  undivided  atten- 
tion to  a  sermon.  Perhaps  its  brevity  held  him,  or 
its  exceeding  plainness  interested  him ;  perhaps  the 
touching  of  his  heart  chords  by  the  finger  of  Cupid 
had  put  him  in  tune  for  all  good  things.  He  began 
to  survey  the  meeting.  He  wondered  if  all  Friends 
walked  in  such  an  exalted  spirituality.  His  eye 
scanned  those  in  front  of  him  whom  he  was  able 
to  recognize,  until  he  had  mentally  enumerated  and 
classified  them.  Then  it  wandered  to  the  other  side 
of  the  house,  and  he  thought  of  this  and  that  one 
whose  sweet  ways  and  words  made  religion  very 
attractive  to  those  who  knew  them.  Soon  his  gaze 
rested  on  Ethel.  How  different  she  looked  from 
these  plain  people !  What  a  thing  of  beauty  she  was 
compared  with  them!  And  yet  he  was  not  quite 
sure  in  his  honest  heart  that  her  customary  toilet 
did  not  compare  somewhat  unfavorably  with  their 
simple  garb. 

But  O !  ah !  there !  who  was  that  other  worshiper — 


.THE  DILEMMAS  OF  DIPLOMACY  123 

not  clad  like  the  Friends — on  the  farther  side? 
There  was  something  familiar  about  the  hat  and 
light  shawl — yes,  it  must  be — Frances  Jones! 
Havard's  spiritual  meditations  were  unexpectedly 
interrupted.  He  had  suddenly  come  down  from 
his  paradise,  having  heard  words  that  it  was  not  law- 
ful for  him  to  utter. 

The  remainder  of  the  exercises  was  lost  upon  him. 
He  would  have  been  glad  if  they  had  lasted  longer, 
so  that  he  could  have  collected  his  wits.  But  by- 
and-by  the  old  men  on  the  front  seats  reached  out 
their  hands  for  a  fraternal  clasping,  and  as  if  by 
instinct  the  meeting  arose  and  did  similarly. 

The  quiet  was  ended,  men  and  women  became 
secular  again,  smiling,  chatting  about  the  health  of 
the  various  families,  inviting  each  other  to  visit, 
talking  about  the  weather  and  those  other  trite 
topics  that  human  nature  will  never  cease  to  confer 
about  till  time  shall  be  no  more. 

Havard  would  have  given  much  to  escape  from 
the  embarrassment  of  a  certain  meeting.  An 
Aladdin's  lamp  to  touch,  and  therewith  summon 
immediate  transportation  to  the  shades  of  Mount 
Joy,  would  have  gratified  him  immensely.  But  the 
ordeal  must  be  met. 

But  it  came  about  naturally  enough.  Ethel  made 
her  exit  slowly,  not  lingering,  because  she  was  unac- 
quainted with  the  worshipers.  At  the  door  Havard 
introduced  to  her  various  Friends  of  the  women's 
side;  and  while  they  were  talking  Frances  came  out 
with  a  cousin,  who  wore  the  customary  plain  clothes 
of  the  Society.  For  the  first  time  she  recognized 


124  VALLEY  FORGE 

the  presence  of  Havard,  greeted  him  unaffectedly, 
and  introduced  him  to  her  cousin.  Then  she  became 
aware  of  Ethel's  presence,  and  Havard  begged  to 
make  his  friends  acquainted.  It  was  really  an  awk- 
ward moment,  for  Havard  was  ill  at  ease,  Ethel 
scarcely  aroused  into  conversation,  the  cousin  a  little 
shy,  and  Frances  slightly  perplexed.  But  the  latter 
rallied  at  once,  and,  perceiving  that  she  was  the 
natural  hostess  of  the  occasion,  made  it  very  pleas- 
ant for  Ethel  and  greatly  gratified  Havard. 

It  was  Havard  who  brought  the  horses  for 
Frances  and  her  cousin,  and  they  rode  away 
together.  Frances  invited  Ethel  and  Havard  to 
dinner  at  her  mother's,  but  this  was  heaping  coals 
of  fire  on  Havard's  head,  although  the  amiable 
girl  did  not  dream  it.  The  invitation  was  grate- 
fully acknowledged,  but  not  accepted;  and  at  the 
proper  turn  Ethel  and  Havard  bent  their  way  north- 
ward, while  Frances  and  her  guest  kept  on  for  the 
little  distance  that  still  separated  them  from  the 
Jones  homestead.  At  the  parting,-  however,  Frances 
obtained  the  promise  of  an  afternoon  call. 

Although  Mrs.  Brown  had  been  unwilling  to  go 
to  meeting  with  her  son  and  their  guest,  she  appeared 
quite  ready  to  accompany  them  to  Mrs.  Jones's. 

Ethel  thought  she  had  never  received  a  more 
cordial  greeting  than  that  which  Frances  extended 
upon  their  arrival,  and  which  was  as  heartily  sec- 
onded by  her  mother.  Mr.  Jones,  in  a  farmer's  Sun- 
day best,  did  the  honors  of  a  host,  and  Lydia  Dar- 
rach,  Frances's  cousin,  contributed  to  the  sociability 
of  the  occasion. 


THE  DILEMMAS  OF  DIPLOMACY  125 

The  latter,  like  Ethel,  had  been  detained  in  the 
vicinity  because  of  the  military  occupation  and 
derangements  of  travel.  The  afternoon  proved  too 
brief  to  permit  a  thorough  discussion  of  the  war 
excitement,  and  the  narration  of  the  various  inci- 
dents that  had  come  under  the  notice  of  each  par- 
ticipant. 

Mrs.  Jones  and  her  daughter  were  prompt  to 
award  General  Howe  a  meed  of  praise  for  the 
admirable  conduct  of  his  troops  so  far  as  personal 
behavior  was  concerned,  albeit  their  loss  by  confis- 
cation and  waste  approached  two  hundred  pounds. 

Mr.  Jones,  supposing  that  Havard  would  be 
interested  in  the  science  of  war,  invited  him  to 
survey  the  lines  occupied  by  the  British  during  their 
brief  stay.  Together  they  traversed  the  fields,  and 
inspected  the  points  chosen  for  the  posting  of  the 
batteries,  and  the  location  of  the  different  battalions, 
the  body-guard,  and  other  divisions  of  the  army. 

They  crossed  the  meadow  with  its  murmuring 
brook,  and  ascended  the  South  Valley  Hill,  where 
the  upper  post  had  been  maintained.  Immediately 
behind  it  was  the  short  road  to  Squire  Henny  Bell's 
and  to  Peggy's  corner,  used  by  the  Joneses.  It 
struck  up  into  the  woods,  soon  bore  to  the  right  for 
a  few  rods,  and  then,  turning  again  to  the  left, 
joined  the  Lancaster  road  an  eighth  of  a  mile,  or 
less,  east  of  Peggy's. 

When  the  men  returned  to  the  house  they  found 
the  ladies  engrossed  in  conversation,  in  which  all 
appeared  fairly  at  home.  Havard  was  not  much  dis- 
posed to  talk,  but  enjoyed  the  opportunity  of  listen- 


126  VALLEY  FORGE 

ing  to  the  laughing  disputes  and  merry  arguments 
of  the  fair  ones. 

Now  he  could  not  but  observe  the  contrast 
between  Ethel  and  Frances.  It  was  marked,  for 
Ethel  was  without  question  of  an  unusual  type  of 
beauty,  while  Frances  made  no  pretensions  in  that 
respect.  Yet  Frances  was  possessed  of  an  attractive- 
ness of  feature  that  was  indisputable.  In  addition, 
her  manner  was  so  gentle,  her  conversation  so  intel- 
ligent, and  her  amiableness  so  evident  that  many  a 
bright  memory  was  recalled  to  Havard  as  he  silently 
looked  and  listened. 

But  it  must  be  said  that  Ethel  shone  brilliantly 
both  in  beauty  and  in  intellect  that  afternoon.  She 
could  not  know  that  Havard  had  ever  entertained 
any  feeling  other  than  that  of  a  simple  friendship 
for  Frances;  and  yet,  as  though  some  little  bird  had 
whispered  to  her  that  it  lay  deeper,  she  took  upon 
herself  a  degree  of  power  that  made  her  seem  fairly 
dazzling  in  Havard's  eyes. 

And  what  of  Frances?  Did  the  little  bird  tell 
her,  too,  of  a  change  that  had  come  over  her  play- 
mate of  childhood  ?  Ah,  she  did  not  need  the  min- 
istry of  the  feathered  songster !  Skillful  is  the  man 
who  can  hide  from  the  penetrating  gaze  of  a  woman 
the  fact  that  he  is  in  love. 

For  Frances  knew  Havard  better  than  he  knew 
himself.  She  could  read  his  thoughts  in  the  olden 
days,  the  bashful  tokens  of  love  that  never  got  into 
words  but  shone  from  his  eyes  and  hung  on  his 
deeds ;  and  in  more  mature  years  she  recognized  the 
riper  symptoms.  In  ignorance  of  the  progress  of 


THE  DILEMMAS  OF  DIPLOMACY  127 

events  she  plainly  perceived  that  Havard  had 
deserted  her.  This  beautiful  girl  from  the  city  had 
bewitched  him  and  taken  him  captive — perhaps 
innocently  enough. 

There  was  a  tumult  in  her  soul  while  she  main- 
tained a  perfect  outward  calm  in  attendance  upon 
these  lovers.  She  never  had  loved  Havard  more 
than  at  this  moment  when  he  seemed  to  be  far 
away. 

How  rarely  we  recognize  the  heartaches  that  lie 
concealed  under  sunny  smiles.  The  afternoon  was 
especially  pleasant  to  Havard.  "Why,"  said  he  to 
himself,  "Frances  seems  to  enjoy  it;  I  guess  she 
never  had  any  serious  thoughts  of  me,  after  all." 
What  would  he  have  said  had  he  known  the  truth? 
Still,  his  conscience  was  not  perfectly  clear. 

The  men  conversed  of  Tryon,  who  had  been  seen 
very  little  since  the  coming  of  Howe.  He  appeared 
to  avoid  his  neighbors,  with  the  exception  of  two  or 
three  who  agreed  with  him  in  Tory  sentiment ;  but 
there  existed  a  general  opinion  that  he  had  given 
aid  and  comfort  to  the  enemy,  and  he  was  darkly 
considered  by  some  as  a  full-fledged  spy  upon 
patriots. 

After  a  while  Mr.  Jones  said  slowly,  "Do  you 
know  what  Balsam  Ringer  says  about  Will  ?" 

Havard  responded,  "No;  what  is  it?" 

"It  is  a  dreadful  impeachment,  if  true.  It  seems 
that  on  the  night  of  the  massacre  Bill  Wersler 
had  trouble  with  a  horse ;  it  had  the  colic,  and  Bill 
was  up  the  most  of  the  night  with  it.  I  think  the 
beast  got  into  the  cornfield  and  ate  a  good  bit  of 


128  VALLEY  FORGE 

grain  off  the  stalk.  You  know  it  was  a  pretty 
stormy,  darkish  night,  and  nothing  much  could  be 
seen,  but  at  midnight  Bill  heard  some  awful  far- 
away screams.  About  four  o'clock  he  went  out  for 
a  drink  of  water,  and  while  he  was  drinking — every- 
thing being  quiet — he  thought  he  heard  a  moaning 
and  groaning  near  the  gate,  and  somebody  say, 
'Help !'  There  he  found  a  man  down  on  the  ground, 
weak's  a  cat,  and  complaining  that  he  was  in  great 
pain.  Bill  helped  him  in  the  gate,  and  was  going 
to  get  him  in  the  house  or  the  barn,  but  the  man 
begged  him  not  to  move  him.  He  wanted  water, 
which  Bill  ran  and  got  for  him;  and  then  he  told 
Bill  that  he  was  stuck  with  a  bayonet  back  of  the 
Taoli.' " 

Havard  listened  with  breathless  interest.  Seeing 
that  Mr.  Jones  hesitated,  he  inquired,  "But  what 
had  Tryon  to  do  with  it  ?" 

'That's  the  strange  part  of  it.  He  told  Bill  that 
he  was  on  picket  down  near  the  hollow  as  you  go  up 
from  the  'Warren' ;  and  that  Will  Tyron  was  sneak- 
ing round  with  cider  that  night,  and  got  the  pass- 
word from  one  of  the  boys ;  and  that  he  came  with 
the  soldiers  when  he  was  run  through  with  the 
steel." 

"But  how  could  he  know  Will  Tryon?"  asked 
Havard  in  amazement. 

"O,  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  Bill  went  and  got  his 
candle,  and  looked  him  in  the  face,  and  saw  that  he 
was  a  fellow  who  used  to  work  over  on  Nutt's 
road,  and  afterward  enlisted  in  Wayne's  brigade. 
He  had  worked  a  spell  or  two  over  this  way,  and 


THE  DILEMMAS  OF  DIPLOMACY  129 

got  acquainted  with  Bill  and  some  other  fellows. 
It  seems  he  knew  Will  Tryon  pretty  well." 

"Why,  this  is  indeed  horrible,"  said  Havard, 
"but  then  the  man  may  have  been  mistaken.  You 
know  it  was  very  dark,  especially  in  the  hollow.  I 
don't  see  how  he  could  tell  about  its  being  Will." 

"Yes,  it  was  dark  enough,  but  then  the  chap  said 
that  Tryon  talked  to  him,  and  he  knew  his  voice, 
and  Tryon  knew  he  knew  him.  He  stuck  to  it  that 
Will  got  some  of  Peggy's  cider  off  on  the  boys,  and 
that  afterward  he  came  along  with  the  soldiers  and 
showed  them  the  way.  The  poor  fellow  was  badly 
cut  up.  He  could  hardly  talk,  but  called  for  water 
the  whole  time — couldn't  get  enough." 

"What  became  of  the  picket — did  the  redcoats 
get  him  ?" 

"No,  he  died  in  two  or  three  hours.  Nothing 
could  be  done  for  him.  How  he  dragged  himself 
away  to  Bill's  I  don't  see.  But  I  guess  he  was 
afraid  they  would  kill  him  over  there;  and  anyhow 
he  didn't  want  to  be  taken  prisoner.  Bill  would 
have  gone  over  to  Stephens's — down  the  road  from 
the  Forge — but  he  saw  that  it  wasn't  of  any  use. 
So  he  just  made  him  as  easy  as  possible,  and  cared 
for  him  till  the  end.  The  poor  fellow  said  he  had 
enlisted  for  his  country's  sake,  and  he  guessed  that 
he  could  as  well  give  up  his  life  as  anybody,  seeing 
he  had  no  family;  but  he  didn't  like  losing  it  in  that 
mean  fashion — what  he  called  *a  scurvy  trick  of 
one's  own  neighbors.' ' 

For  a  moment  Havard  was  lost  in  thought.  Then 
he  inquired,  "Didn't  the  picket  have  any  friends? 


130  VALLEY  FORGE 

"None  in  this  part  of  the  country.  He  came 
from  down  east  a  few  years  ago,  and  worked  around 
wherever  he  got  a  job.  Bill  tried  to  find  some  one 
that  was  related  to  him,  but  it  was  no  use;  and  so 
in  two  or  three  days  he  buried  him  out  in  the  field 
under  a  walnut  tree.  There  wasn't  anything  on 
him,  in  his  ragged  pockets,  except  a  knife  and  two 
or  three  little  trinkets  that  Bill  saved  if  anybody 
should  want  them." 

Havard  shuddered  at  the  narrative.  It  admitted 
of  little  doubt,  evidently,  that  Tryon  had  perpetrated 
the  blackest  treachery.  He  could  understand  how  a 
man  might  favor  the  king's  side  of  the  controversy, 
and  yet  abide  the  issue,  without  turning  against 
his  neighbors  in  acts  of  savagery. 

Mr.  Jones  continued :  "When  morning  broke  Bill 
Wersler  saw  a  big  pool  of  blood  where  the  man  lay 
by  the  gate,  and  all  along  back  you  could  track  him 
by  the  same  sign.  He  must  have  just  dragged  him- 
self along  across  by  Saint  Peter's.  Perhaps  that's 
why  the  British  missed  him.  He  got  far  enough 
away  while  they  were  up  the  hill,  and  then  they 
did  not  travel  his  way  when  they  got  back  again. 

But  Tryon  was  the  uppermost  thought  in  the 
minds  of  both  of  them.  They  looked  at  each  other. 
as  though  each  read  the  other's  innermost  medi- 
tations, and  still  they  forbore  remark.  Both 
were  just  men,  anxious  to  be  careful  and  exact  in 
their  estimate  and  criticisms  of  their  fellow-men. 
Perhaps  the  result  was  most  significantly  expressed 
in  a  deep-drawn  sigh  on  the  part  of  Havard,  and  a 
rubbing  of  the  brow  by  his  host. 


THE  DILEMMAS  OF  DIPLOMACY  131 

Socially  it  was  a  very  pleasant  visit.  The  tea — 
a  very  precious  article — was  of  Mrs.  Jones's  best 
brewing.  Mrs.  Brown  and  Ethel  bestowed  high 
praise  upon  the  simple,  tempting  repast  that  mother 
and  daughter  were  able  to  conjure  from  sources  not 
exhausted  by  foreign  exactions,  as  they  smilingly 
remarked. 

In  the  yet  early  evening,  before  the  gloaming 
deepened  in  the  glen  where  Valley  Creek  girded 
itself  for  the  passage  of  the  ravine,  the  Browns 
and  Miss  Thomson  returned  to  the  house  on  the 
Mount  Joy  slope. 

Havard  was  grateful  to  Frances  for  the  rare 
unselfishness  of  her  hospitality,  but  he  little  recked 
of  the  cost  to  her.  That  night,  while  Lydia  Dar- 
rach  slept  peacefully  by  her  side,  dreaming  of  the 
little  city  on  the  Delaware,  Frances  watched  the 
stars  through  the  panes  of  her  small  window;  and 
their  slow  movement  seemed  sympathetic  with  the 
dragging  pain  at  her  heart,  her  face,  meanwhile, 
being  wet  with  tears. 


CHAPTER    XII 
CROSSING  THE  RUBICON 

TUESDAY  was  the  last  of  the  September  calendar, 
and  a  suggestion  of  October  characterized  the  cool 
air  of  the  early  morning.  Mrs.  Brown  was  stirring 
at  least  an  hour  earlier  than  common,  that  Ethel 
might  be  provided  with  breakfast  in  season  for  a 
propitious  start.  Havard,  too,  was  busy,  getting 
ready  for  the  journey,  and  was  both  sorry  and 
glad;  for,  while  he  regretted  to  lose  so  precious 
a  prize,  he  expected  to  enjoy  a  certain  privacy  of 
association  for  several  hours.  He  was  self-reproach- 
ful at  not  having  proffered  his  escort  to  Lydia  Dar- 
rach  in  an  invitation  to  return  to  the  city  in  the 
company  of  Ethel — nowadays  he  was  catching  him- 
self in  the  performance  of  many  minor  delin- 
quencies— but  it  would  have  been  too  great  a  con- 
cession, especially  as  he  would  not  be  likely  to  see 
Ethel  for  some  time  to  come. 

To  that  young  lady  the  farewell  was  not 
burdensome.  Accustomed  as  she  was  to  the  gayer 
life  of  the  town,  the  crickets  and  the  katy-dids  con- 
stituted but  indifferent  society,  when  Havard  and  his 
mother  were  out  of  sight.  The  pastoral  scenery 
became  monotonous,  and  a  general  air  of  lonesome- 
ness  enveloped  the  house  and  the  glen  below,  with  its 
glancing  waters. 

She  found  herself  revolving  more  frequently  the 
132 


CROSSING  THE  RUBICON  133 

serious  feature  of  her  engagement  to  Havard.  She 
was  sure  that  the  manly  fellow  was  well  worth 
having.  He  was  certainly  of  better  fiber  than  the 
majority  of  the  young  men  she  knew;  and  there 
could  be  no  doubt  of  his  affection  for  her.  His 
devotion  struck  her  as  something  remarkable.  And 
yet  there  were  times  when  she  wondered  if  she 
truly  reciprocated  so  ardent  a  love.  The  relation- 
ship was  so  rapid  in  its  development  that  she  could 
scarcely  believe  in  its  reality;  it  was  so  unconven- 
tional to  her  mind. 

All  was  ready.  Mrs.  Brown  bade  Ethel  farewell, 
with  a  warm  invitation  to  return  soon.  She  pre- 
sented the  girl  with  a  luncheon  to  be  eaten  as  the 
morning  wore  on,  and  threw  over  her  shoulders  a 
light  shawl  to  protect  her  from  the  moisture  and 
coolness  that  hung  about  the  glen.  Havard  assisted 
his  sweetheart  to  her  seat  upon  the  horse  borrowed 
for  the  occasion,  and,  lightly  mounting  Saladin, 
waved  farewell  to  his  mother. 

They  rode  up  the  easy  grade  to  the  Gulph  road, 
when  they  turned  southeasterly.  Havard  called 
Ethel's  attention  to  the  peculiar  setting  of  the  hills, 
and  remarked  that  they  would  present  a  formidable 
defense  against  a  hostile  army. 

Some  distance  beyond  they  noticed  a  puff  of 
smoke,  followed  immediately  by  the  crack  of  a  gun 
which  startled  the  horses.  Riding  nearer,  they  saw 
a  young  man  of  about  eighteen  picking  up  a  rabbit 
that  he  had  struck.  Havard  recognized  him  as 
Dewalt  Beaver,  and  introduced  him  to  Ethel  as  a 
neighbor  and  friend,  and  took  occasion  to  praise 


134  VALLEY  FORGE 

his  skill  with  the  weapon.  Dewalt,  rather  shy  in 
the  presence  of  so  fine  a  lady,  modestly  told  of  his 
exploits  with  his  favorite  weapon,  and  Havard 
remarked  that  it  would  be  dangerous  for  a  man  to 
get  within  range  of  it. 

The  "King"  greeted  them  with  his  usual  cavalier 
air,  as  they  rode  by ;  and  then  they  slowly  cantered 
onward  to  the  gates  of  the  Gulph  and  its  picturesque 
hills.  At  least  to  Havard  the  transit  of  the  defile 
from  the  "Bird  in  Hand"  to  the  deep  basin  on  the 
east  was  exhilarating.  Far  up  on  the  right  the  tall 
hill  stood  gray  and  dark  with  its  masses  of  rock 
topped  with  symmetrical  trees,  and  on  the  left  vari- 
ous rocky  folds,  with  cross  ravines,  assembled  to 
please  the  eye,  while  the  murmurous  music  of  the 
Gulph  Creek  fell  agreeably  upon  the  ear. 

Ethel  warmed  into  expressions  of  pleasure  as 
there  came  into  view  a  large  overhanging  rock  on 
the  left,  where  Havard  said  they  might  find  shelter 
from  rain.  A  more  politic  lover  would  have  pro- 
nounced it  a  trysting  bower,  and  proceeded  to 
exhibit  the  proof  of  his  pudding  in  the  eating,  but 
Havard  had  not  yet  gained  complete  victory  over 
his  bashfulness. 

Their  road  led  to  the  Middle  Ferry,  which  was 
carefully  picketed  by  the  new  occupants  of  the 
Quaker  City.  The  floating  bridge,  built  by  General 
Israel  Putnam  the  previous  year,  had  been  carried 
away,  and  concealed,  after  the  battle  of  the  Brandy- 
wine.  The  British  engineers  were  already  preparing 
a  convenient  passageway,  but  for  the  present  the 
more  ancient  ferry  was  in  requisition.  A  scow  was 


CROSSING  THE  RUBICON  135 

found,  fastened  to  a  post  on  the  western  shore, 
and  the  horses  of  Havard  and  Ethel  were  led  into  it. 
The  animals  were  suspicious  of  its  security,  and 
trod  its  planks  with  apprehensive  caution.  Havard's 
quick  eye  observed  the  progress  of  some  military 
movement  of  magnitude.  It  transpired  that  the 
British  had  in  view  an  attempt  to  reduce  Forts 
Mercer  and  Mifflin. 

The  scow  was  slowly  hauled  across  the  stream 
by  a  rope,  and  its  passengers  landed,  to  undergo  the 
inspection  of  the  guard.  This  safely  passed,  they 
again  mounted  their  horses  and  turned  their  faces 
toward  the  city,  which  was  bounded  by  Callowhill 
Street  on  the  north,  Christian  Street  on  the  south, 
and  at  its  widest  extended  between  Arch  and  Wal- 
nut Streets,  from  the  Delaware  River  to  Ninth 
Street. 

All  the  ferries  were  guarded  by  an  ample  force, 
although  the  main  body  of  the  British  lay  at  German- 
town.  Havard  sighed  as  he  contemplated  this 
foreign  possession,  and  found  himself  wondering 
why  Howe  had  been  permitted  to  blind  the  eyes 
of  the  Continentals. 

Ethel's  parents  resided  on  South  Second  Street, 
not  far  from  the  Loxley  house,  then  the  home  of 
William  and  Lydia  Darrach.  In  passing  this  resi- 
dence of  quaint  construction  Havard  remarked  to 
Ethel  that  there  were  signs  about  it  of  military 
occupation,  and  that  Lydia  might  find  an  unpleas- 
ant surprise  on  her  return. 

The  afternoon  was  fairly  advanced  when  the 
leisurely  travelers  reached  their  destination.  The 


136  VALLEY  FORGE 

welcome  they  received  was  unaccompanied  by  any 
expressions  indicative  of  previous  uneasiness,  for 
no  tidings  of  the  spoliation  about  the  Swedes'  Ford 
had  come  to  the  attention  of  Ethel's  family.  Mr. 
Brown  was  not  a  total  stranger  in  the  home,  and 
was  bidden  to  be  at  ease.  Mrs.  Thomson  refreshed 
the  travelers  with  a  luncheon,  of  which  they  were  not 
loth  to  partake. 

Ethel's  narrative  caused  considerable  surprise 
and  concern,  and  the  details  were  anxiously  insisted 
upon.  In  return,  her  mother  told  of  the  conster- 
nation of  the  people  when  Howe's  advance  marched 
down  Second  Street  after  its  entry  of  the  city,  and 
of  their  anxiety  when  the  American  ships  attacked 
the  batteries.  A  number  of  the  most  inviting  dwell- 
ings had  been  already  impressed  as  quarters  for  the 
officers,  and  everybody  was  looking  forward  to  a 
long  season  of  British  military  domination. 

Apart  from  chagrin  at  the  triumph  of  its  strategy, 
the  presence  of  the  army  was  not  devoid  of  inter- 
est on  account  of  its  novelty.  Soldiers  were  per- 
petually seen  in  the  streets,  and  officers  were  busily 
riding  to  and  fro;  for  a  task  of  some  magnitude 
confronted  the  army  in  making  its  preparations 
for  the  winter,  and  also  in  laying  siege  to  the  stub- 
born forts  in  the  Delaware;  since,  without  the  free 
navigation  of  the  river,  and  the  receipt  of  supplies, 
which  must  come  up  from  the  capes  in  the  men-of- 
war  and  transports,  the  victory  would  be  but  partial. 

Havard  sought  the  army  paymaster,  and  had 
Captain  Andre's  order  cashed ;  after  which  he  spent 
an  hour  or  two  in  rambling  about  the  town  and 


CROSSING  THE  RUBICON  137 

observing  the  artillery  park  in  the  State  House 
square.  The  Walnut  Street  prison  attracted  his 
attention — it  had  been  built  only  two  or  three  years 
previously,  and  the  promenade  ground  possessed  a 
morbid  interest,  for  it  had  been  turned  into  a  Pot- 
ter's Field,  and  hundreds  of  Washington's  soldiers 
who  had  died  of  smallpox  or  other  diseases  were 
interred  there. 

The  early  evening  brought  Mr.  Thomson  home 
from  his  tallow  chandlery,  and  supper  was  partaken 
of  with  vivacity  in  conversation  and  a  full  discus- 
sion of  politics.  Havard  was  to  remain  under  Mr. 
Thomson's  roof  for  the  night,  and  return  the  follow- 
ing afternoon. 

It  happened  that  the  prearranged  engagements  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thomson  left  Ethel  and  Havard 
wholly  to  themselves  for  the  remainder  of  the  even- 
ing, and  now  the  lover  pleaded  his  suit  with  fervor. 
He  was  unable  to  perceive  any  tangible  grounds  for 
delaying  a  union  he  thought  so  desirable,  and  urged 
that  an  early  day  might  be  selected  for  the  wedding, 
but  Ethel  was  disposed  to  dally. 

The  hours  flew  by  all  too  rapidly,  the  good-nights 
were  spoken,  and  Havard  Brown  slept  in  the  city 
of  Penn  garrisoned  with  an  armed  foe.  Dreams 
of  future  bliss  crowned  his  slumbers,  and  a  smile 
illumined  his  face. 

What  had  occurred  to  sway  Ethel's  judgment  was 
not  made  manifest,  but  during  the  morning's  inter- 
view Havard  had  with  her  she  so  far  relented  as  to 
accede  to  his  importunity  to  permit  an  early  day  to 
be  chosen  for  their  nuptials.  Sanguine  as  he  had 


138  VALLEY  FORGE 

been,  the  young  man  had  hardly  expected  such  good 
news  so  soon,  and  accordingly  he  was  in  raptures. 
When  the  early  noonday  "piece"  was  eaten,  and 
Saladin  was  brought  to  the  door,  Havard  strate- 
getically  availed  himself  of  the  momentary  absence 
of  Mrs.  Thomson  to  appropriate  a  token  of  affection, 
which  brought  blushes  to  Ethel's  cheeks,  and  nearly 
exposed  the  circumstance  to  her  mother's  eye  upon 
her  return.  The  tall  farmer  was  a  little  awkward 
in  his  caresses,  but  his  ardor  was  unmistakable. 

With  mutual  understandings  as  to  a  future  meet- 
ing, Havard  bade  his  love  good-by,  and,  comfort- 
ably astride  of  Saladin,  and  leading  Ethel's  bor- 
rowed steed,  he  rode  away  toward  the  Middle  Ferry 
on  his  homeward  journey. 

Once  over  the  ferry,  Havard  stimulated  the  bor- 
rowed horse  into  a  lively  pace,  Saladin  being  already 
eager  for  the  Gulph  Hills  and  the  well-kept  stable 
that  lay  beyond  them.  The  return  trip  had  the 
flavor  of  emptiness,  for  it  seemed  as  though  he  had 
left  some  essential  behind.  The  leading  thought 
he  indulged  was  his  agreeable  relationship  to  Ethel. 
Yet  this  was  dreamlike,  lacking  the  semblance  of 
reality.  It  was  such  a  new  world  in  which  to  live 
that  he  found  it  difficult  to  reduce  it  to  a  practical 
everyday  level. 

Through  all  his  meditations,  however,  ran  a 
thread  of  unpleasant  reflection.  It  was  in  reference 
to  Frances  Jones.  Whenever  he  thought  of  her  he 
invariably  found  his  view  of  Ethel  beclouded.  Yet 
he  could  not  analyze  the  peculiar  feeling;  for,  main- 
taining that  no  engagement  of  affection  had  actually 


CROSSING  THE  RUBICON  139 

occurred  between  them,  he  cleared  himself  from 
reproach,  and  could  not  comprehend  why  he  should 
be  thus  disquieted.  Still,  when  he  conjured  up  the 
sweet  face  of  Frances,  and  her  gentleness  and 
charm,  he  found  himself  wondering  how  he  came 
to  be  oblivious  of  its  spell. 

The  horses  trotted  on  for  several  miles  without 
any  check  from  their  master,  and  without  his  observ- 
ing the  objects  along  the  highway.  It  was  not  until 
they  reached  the  Merion  meeting-house  that  Ha- 
vard  became  aware  that  other  hoof-beats  were  re- 
sounding in  his  rear.  Then,  glancing  backward,  he 
saw  Will  Tryon. 

It  was  Tryon  who  spoke  first.  Havard  had  come 
to  entertain  such  an  aversion  for  him  that  he  would 
have  found  it  difficult  to  utter  the  first  word  of  greet- 
ing. The  dark  clouds  that  hung  about  the  fellow 
could  not  be  explained  away ;  and  the  story  that  Mr. 
Jones  told  about  the  wounded  picket  bore  hard  upon 
him.  Wersler  was  an  honorable  man,  highly 
respected,  and  Havard  could  conceive  of  no  motive 
for  slander  upon  the  part  of  a  dying  man.  The  only 
alternative  was  the  possibility  that  the  picket  was 
mistaken  in  the  darkness. 

"Good  afternoon,  Brown,"  said  Tryon,  as  he  rode 
by  the  side  of  Havard,  "we're  having  a  fine  spell  of 
weather  for  the  fall  work." 

"Good  afternoon,"  stiffly  responded  Havard, 
"yes,  the  weather's  favorable  to  farmers'  jobs — but 
then" — and  he  glanced  at  the  other's  face — "there's 
something  else  to  count  these  days  beside  weather." 

There  was  nothing  alarming,  or  even  unpleasantly 


140  VALLEY  FORGE 

suggestive,  in  this  remark,  but  Tryon  discovered  an 
allusion  in  it  that  induced  a  suffusion  of  his  temples 
and  caused  him  to  lose  his  equanimity  in  his  next 
remark.  "Ah,  well,  yes,  there  are  some  unpleasant- 
nesses that  are  due  to — ah — to  the  state  of  affairs." 

Havard  perceived  his  confusion,  and  increased  it 
by  a  more  direct  reference  to  the  times :  "It's  a  great 
pity  that  we  have  to  bear  this  trouble,  and  that  we 
can't  be  let  alone  to  enjoy  our  rights  in  peace.  It's 
scandalous,  the  things  we've  had  to  suffer  in  our 
neighborhood,  but  then — "  turning  abruptly  and 
looking  at  his  neighbor  full  in  the  face — "I  suppose 
you  haven't  lost  very  much  by  these  doings." 

"No,  I  can't  say  that  I've  lost  much,  for  your 
politics  and  mine  are  a  little  different,  you  know.  I 
think  it  was  a  very  great  mistake  for  the  Colonies 
to  set  up  against  the  king,  and  I've  only  been  loyal. 

"Well,  to  my  mind  there's  a  difference  between 
being  loyal  and  taking  a  hand  in  persecuting  one's 
neighbors.  I  give  every  man  a  right  to  his  own 
way  of  thinking — sometimes  it's  hard  to  tell  which 
way  is  right,  and  I  don't  blame  a  man  for  being  true 
to  the  king ;  but  when  it  comes  to  spotting  out  one's 
own  neighbors,  that  he's  been  brought  up  with,  and 
getting  them  into  trouble,  I  think  it's  more  like 
treason  than  if  he  had  rebelled  against  the  king." 

To  the  guilty  conscience  of  Tryon  the  words 
revealed  a  volume.  "How  much  does  Brown 
know?"  he  asked  himself.  It  was  patent  that  he 
was  suspected  of  collusion  with  the  troops  in  their 
late  incursion ;  but  how  much  had  Havard  dis- 
covered, and  how  ? 


CROSSING  THE  RUBICON  141 

"It  don't  follow  that  because  one  is  loyal  he 
should  persecute  his  neighbors,"  he  said,  evasively; 
and  then,  evidently  connecting  the  events  in  his 
mind,  he  continued :  "There  are  always  agents  used 
by  a  general  to  inform  him  of  the  state  of  affairs, 
and  of  the  feelings  of  the  people.  That  can't  be 
escaped." 

"Agents!  spies,  you  mean.  No  commander  of  a 
foreign  army  could  find  out  the  feelings  of  the  peo- 
ple unless  some  spy  among  them — some  snake  in 
the  grass — would  inform  him."  Havard  waxed 
warm,  and  finally  said:  "Tryon,  there's  no  use 
mincing  matters  about  this  thing.  You're  the  spy 
that  told  Howe  about  your  neighbors,  and  gave  him 
a  plan  of  the  country  and  the  location  of  the  farms. 
How  much  did  Captain  Andre  give  you  for  the 
information  ?" 

Tryon  was  amazed.  Deep  in  subtleties,  he  never 
for  a  moment  imagined  that  his  secrets  were  known 
to  a  single  patriotic  soul.  It  was  inconceivable  how 
Brown  had  become  possessed  of  this  intelligence. 
He  vouchsafed  no  reply,  but  his  countenance  showed 
that  the  bolt  had  struck  home. 

"Tryon,"  resumed  Havard,  rising  higher  in  feel- 
ing, and  yet  speaking  with  solemnity,  "There  are 
worse  sins  than  robbing  people  and  burning  their 
buildings;  there  is  such  a  thing  as  stealing  watch- 
words and  guiding  an  enemy  to  attack  one's  own 
countrymen.  That's  black  treason,  and  there's  no 
forgiveness  for  it.  I  hope  you  have  not  been  guilty 
of  that." 

Tryon  was  overwhelmed.    Fear  and  rage  wrestled 


142  VALLEY  FORGE 

for  the  mastery  in  his  bosom.  If  he  could  he  would 
have  torn  Havard  to  pieces.  The  latter  had  aptly 
described  him  as  a  serpent,  slyly  concealing  himself, 
and  striking  at  the  favorable  moment.  What  he 
should  answer  was  difficult  to  decide;  but  at  last, 
with  a  show  of  anger  and  virtuous  indignation,  he 
exclaimed  against  "such  monstrous  injustice." 

But  Havard  was  not  to  be  brushed  aside  so 
lightly. 

"After  that  dreadful  night  at  the  Taoli' — "  here 
Tryon  visibly  trembled — "a  poor  soldier  on  picket, 
stabbed  and  bleeding,  found  his  way  across  the 
valley,  and  died  in  an  hour  or  two,  but  he  told  before 
he  died  who  brought  cider  for  the  soldiers,  found 
out  the  watchword,  and  then  brought  the  redcoats. 
Do  you  know  who  that  was,  Tryon?" 

The  miserable  man  was  quaking  in  an  agony  of 
fear.  Drops  of  perspiration  stood  upon  his  fore- 
head, and  he  nervously  fingered  his  bridle  rein. 
His  very  silence  proclaimed  his  guilt — in  fact,  he 
was  unable  to  utter  a  word. 

Havard  continued :  "/  only  know  about  that  affair 
of  Andre's.  I  have  not  told  anybody  about  it,  and 
do  not  expect  to.  That  affair  of  the  'Paoli'  is  sus- 
pected by  other  people,  but  I  shall  not  help  it  on. 
I  recommend  you  to  settle  it  with  your  God.  I 
wish  you  no  harm,  and  do  not  want  to  punish  you 
for  what  I  think  is  one  of  the  greatest  sins  a  man 
may  commit.  Remember  it's  one  thing  to  fight  when 
the  blood  is  hot,  about  principles  one  believes  to 
be  right,  and  another  thing  to  betray  in  cool  blood 
the  friends  and  neighbors  you've  been  intimate  with 


CROSSING  THE  RUBICON  143 

from  childhood.  But,  I  say,  settle  it  with  your 
God." 

Tryon's  jaw  hung  in  his  distress.  Yet  he  was 
grateful  to  Havard  for  the  mercy  of  his  last  words ; 
for  during  this  conversation  the  craven  fear  had 
possessed  him  that  retribution  would  follow  the  dis- 
covery of  his  evil  deeds,  and  he  was  a  coward.  But 
in  the  clear  and  beautiful  patriotism  of  Havard 
Brown,  combined  with  his  freedom  from  revenge- 
fulness,  he  saw  himself  as  a  Judas,  for  considerable 
gain  had  accrued  to  him  as  the  result  of  his  baseness. 

But  after  a  fashion  Tryon  was  relieved;  for 
visions  of  a  summary  vengeance  upon  the  part  of 
outraged  neighbors  in  the  form,  of  a  noose  and  a 
barn  rafter,  or  the  limb  of  a  tree,  had  been  flitting 
across  his  brain.  However,  there  was  nothing  that 
he  could  say  in  reply — what  justification  was  there? 
And  at  the  first  convenient  road  to  the  right  he 
turned  ofT  the  Gulph  road,  the  very  picture  of  guilt. 

Much  perturbed,  Havard  rode  on,  lost  in  moral 
reflection,  until  Saladin  paused  at  the  gate  of  his  own 
barnyard. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

THE  BITTER  BEFORE  THE  SWEET 

IT  was  not  until  the  following  Sunday  that  Ha- 
vard  opened  his  heart  to  his  mother.  The  task  was 
far  from  being  easy,  for  he  felt  that  she  would  be 
disappointed  in  his  confidences,  because  of  her  warm 
affection  for  Frances  Jones.  But,  with  a  mother's 
tenderness,  guessing  his  predicament,  she  diplomati- 
cally opened  the  way  with  the  query,  "How  does 
Ethel  like  country  life?" 

Havard  hitched  about  uneasily,  blushed,  and 
stammered  that  he  thought  she  was  not  enamored  of 
the  country,  but  if  she  had  a  real  taste  of  it,  and  got 
to  understand  country  ways,  she  would  be  likely 
to  enjoy  it.  Now  it  seemed  to  him  that  his  oppor- 
tunity had  come,  and  in  a  sort  of  desperation  he 
said,  "Mother,  I've  asked  Ethel  to  be  my  wife." 

There  was  a  silence  so  profound  that  Havard 
thought  he  could  hear  his  heart  thump.  Mrs. 
Brown  made  no  remark,  and  it  was  left  for  Ha- 
vard to  say,  anxiously,  "I  hope,  mother,  that  you  can 
take  her  into  your  heart  and  receive  her  as  a 
daughter." 

Another  silence,  that  was  almost  cruel  to  Havard ; 
but  it  was  only  because  his  mother  was  touched  with 
the  pitiful  tone  of  her  boy,  and  then  she  said, 
gravely  but  kindly,  "I  hope  that  I  shall  not  be  want- 
ing in  a  mother's  duty  to  her  son  and  his  wife.  I 

deeply  wish  thee  happiness." 

144 


THE  BITTER  BEFORE  THE  SWEET         145 

But  Havard  well  knew  that  it  was  a  tension  upon 
his  mother,  and  could  not  refrain  from  saying, 
"Perhaps  a  city  girl  is  not  so  welcome  to  you  as 
one  brought  up  in  the  country.  Perhaps  you  think 
Ethel  will  not  be  contented  in  this  quiet  spot." 

"Havard,"  she  responded,  "I  believe  that  true 
hearts  are  found  in  the  cities  as  well  as  in  the 
country,  and  that  there  are  false  ones  in  our  own 
quiet  life.  Time  only  can  tell  in  any  case  what 
people  will  do  and  be;  and  some  who  were  bred  in 
the  city  have  been  very  happy  in  a  purely  country 
home." 

She  wondered  whether  she  ought  to  say  what  was 
welling  up  to  her  lips ;  but  after  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion she  continued :  "Havard,  I  always  supposed  that 
Frances  Jones  would  some  day  become  my  daughter. 
I  have  long  loved  her  with  a  mother's  affection,  and 
hoped  that  thee  might  come  to  look  upon  her  as  a 
lover  would.  Indeed,  I  felt  pretty  sure  that  this 
was  thy  feeling  for  her;  and  if  I  am  not  mistaken 
she  has  so  understood  it.  It  is  this  that  casts  a 
shadow  upon  the  announcement  thee  has  just  made." 

Havard  was  experiencing  unpleasant  sensations; 
but  he  had  had  premonitory  twinges  of  conscience, 
and  could  not  complain.  "Why,  mother,"  he  said, 
"there  has  been  nothing  of  an  engagement  between 
Frances  and  me.  I  always  liked  her,  and  thought 
a  great  deal  of  her,  and  always  shall,  for  that  mat- 
ter; but  it  was  never  understood  that  we  should  be 
married." 

"No,  Havard,  not  in  so  many  words,  perhaps; 
but  thee  knows  Frances  has  never  had  any  other 


146  VALLEY  FORGE 

company,  and  thee  has  always  attended  her  to  the 
parties,  and  visited  her  at  home.  There  is  such  a 
thing  as  leading  people  by  our  actions,  if  not  by 
our  words,  to  believe  certain  things;  and  I  should 
be  surprised  if  Frances  has  not  long  entertained  the 
belief  that  thee  felt  toward  her  as  a  lover." 

Havard  realized  the  force  of  these  remarks,  and 
could  have  enlightened  his  mother  with  the  narra- 
tion of  many  positive  expressions  of  friendship 
which  would  appear  rather  remarkable  unless  they 
were  understood  as  explanatory  of  a  particular 
affection.  But  he  did  not  illumine  her  mind  with 
such  details,  and  before  he  could  frame  a  reply  she 
proceeded : 

"Friendships  between  young  men  and  young" 
women  are  not  like  those  which  spring  up  between 
men  or  between  women.  No  one  should  tread  care- 
lessly on  this  ground,  for  if  affection  is  awakened 
and  afterward  ignored  the  results  may  be  cruel. 
Of  course,  I  do  not  know  what  Frances's  feelings 
are;  but,  judging  from  many  things,  I  think  she 
has  looked  upon  thee  as  her  lover,  and  must  feel 
sadly  cut  to  see  thee  bestow  thy  heart  upon  another." 

And  now  Mrs.  Brown  experienced  a  revulsion  of 
sentiment.  It  had  seemed  her  duty  to  speak  thus, 
but  she  pitied  her  son's  embarrassment,  and  she  now 
purposed  to  smooth  the  way  for  the  gratification  of 
his  wishes.  Perhaps  her  tone  was  more  conciliatory 
and  affectionate;  at  all  events,  he  felt  grateful  for 
the  change. 

"Has  thee  decided  yet  when  thee  will  be 
married  ?" 


THE  BITTER  BEFORE  THE  SWEET        1471. 

"No,  not  exactly ;  but  it  will  most  probably  be 
about  New  Year's." 

He  was  too  shy  to  ask  if  that  date  would  be 
convenient  to  his  mother;  but  she  anticipated  his 
thoughts,  and  remarked  that  all  things  could  be  made 
ready  to  suit  the  time  mentioned.  Then  they  dis- 
cussed the  little  and  large  matters  associated  with  so 
important  an  event,  and  the  animation  displayed  by 
Havard  drove  away  the  unpleasantness  attending 
the  introduction  of  the  theme. 

A  diversion  as  welcome  as  it  was  unexpected  now 
occurred.  A  long-deferred  visit  to  the  Browns  was 
made  by  Miss  Jennie  Reese  and  her  chum,  Miss 
Rebecca  Neilley.  The  latter  young  lady  had  gone 
over  to  Reese's  and  did  not  demur  when  the  viva- 
cious Jennie  proposed  a  call  upon  the  Browns.  The 
pair  proceeded  to  the  Jones  homestead  with  the  view 
of  persuading  Frances  to  accompany  them,  but  found 
her  curiously  unwilling.  They  could  not  understand 
her  grounds  for  declining,  but,  persisting  in  the  trip 
to  Mount  Joy,  they  were  obliged  to  leave  her  behind. 

A  month  before,  Frances  would  have  found  it 
quite  to  her  mind  to  accede  to  the  request  of  her 
friends ;  for  the  society  of  Mrs.  Brown  was  grateful, 
and  familiar  intercourse  with  Havard  did  not  detract 
from  the  agreeable  features  of  such  a  visit.  But 
now  it  could  only  result  in  pain,  and  she  felt  that 
she  was  unequal  to  the  effort.  For  that  matter,  a 
sense  of  suffering  attended  her  waking  hours  almost 
constantly,  for  her  mind  would  dwell  upon  hopes 
that  seemed  well-nigh  extinguished. 

The  girls  burst  in  upon  Mrs.  Brown  with  a  liveli- 


148  VALLEY  FORGE 

ness  that  was  completely  antithetical  to  the  somber- 
ness  associated  with  the  early  part  of  the  morning. 
Neither  fair  brow  was  clouded  with  care,  and  Jennie 
especially  was  sparkling  with  merriment  and  youth- 
ful spirit.  If  she  entertained  for  that  young  farmer, 
Robert  Ringer,  more  than  a  passing  sentiment,  she 
took  care  to  prevent  it  from  preying  upon  her  fresh 
and  pretty  face,  and  was  quite  able  to  allude  to 
the  fact  of  his  escort  to  churches  and  parties. 

All  young  company  circled  about  Mrs.  Brown, 
probably  for  the  reason  that  it  was  always  agreeable 
to  her;  and  her  brow  cleared  and  her  spirits  rose 
when  she  saw  the  light-hearted  girls  on  the  porch. 

"Why,  girls !  what  a  pleasant  surprise  this  morn- 
ing! Come  in  at  once.  How  does  thee  each  do, 
and  how  are  all  the  folks  at  home?  To  think  that 
I  have  a  namesake  to-day!" 

It  was  the  irrepressible  Jennie  who  first  replied : 
"O,  Mrs.  Brown,  we're  so  glad  to  call,  and  we're 
going  to  stay  to  dinner  with  you,  so  get  our  names 
in  the  pot.  Mind  that  you  have  some  of  your 
famous  jelly  on  the  table,  or  we'll  not  come  soon 
again." 

Rebecca  looked  shocked  at  this  presumptuous 
speech,  but  Mrs.  Brown  responded  that  she  would 
put  before  such  princesses  the  very  best  that  was  to 
be  had  in  the  land,  "which,"  she  said,  "you  know 
is  nothing  to  brag  of  since  our  cousins  from  over 
the  water  paid  us  a  visit." 

"Ah,  but,"  said  Jennie,  "you  ought  to  have  seen 
what  a  perfect  gentleman  General  Cornwallis  was! 
I  half  believe  I  made  Rob  Ringer  jealous  of  him, 


THE  BITTER  BEFORE  THE  SWEET         149 

when  I  told  him  how  fine  he  was."  Here  Jennie 
giggled,  and  then  laughed  outright,  until  the  tears 
came  into  her  eyes.  "But  I  told  Rob  he  needn't  be 
envious  of  him,  but  rather  of  that  handsome  young 
fellow,  Andre.  The  captain  was  full  of  fun,  and 
cutting  up  and  all  that ;  and  he  actually  plagued  me 
for  a  kiss  the  last  time  I  saw  him,  as  he  was  going 
away  from  the  door.  When  I  told  Rob  that,  he 
looked  green.  I  know  he  wanted  to  find  out  if  I 
gave  the  captain  the  kiss,  but  I  just  kept  him  dang- 
ling on  the  end  of  the  line,  and  gave  him  no  satis- 
faction." 

The  voluble  young  lady  laughed  as  though  there 
were  no  more  enjoyable  sport  than  worrying  a  lover. 
Mrs.  Brown  shook  her  head  deprecatingly,  but  there 
was  a  twinkle  in  her  eye  as  she  reproved  Jennie  for 
trifling  with  so  worthy  a  young  man. 

"Now,  Jennie,  thee  is  doing  very  wrong  to  excite 
such  unpleasant  feelings  in  Robert's  head  and  heart. 
I  know  very  well  that  thee  would  not  permit  the 
captain  to  do  such  a  thing,  and  I  suppose  he  was  only 
indulging  a  love  of  fun,  and  meant  nothingserious." 

Miss  Neilley  turned  the  tide  of  the  conversation 
by  asking  if  their  hostess  had  put  up  many  artichokes 
in  the  spring,  she  having  noticed  the  plentiful  stalks 
in  the  garden  corner. 

"Yes,  and  thee  shall  try  some  at  dinner,  and  have 
a  jar  to  take  home  with  thee,  if  thee  likes." 

In  the  happy  social  life  of  the  times  there  was 
a  generous  interchange  of  the  dainties  prepared  in 
country  homes,  and  these  crisp  tubers,  pickled  in 
honest  cider  vinegar,  proved  an  acceptable  relish. 


150  VALLEY  FORGE 

"But  where  is  Havard?"  suddenly  asked  Miss 
Reese,  as  she  noticed  that  his  face  did  not  appear. 
"We  can't  do  without  him,  and  I've  a  notion  to 
carry  him  away  from  you,  he's  such  a  likely  young 
man.  But  perhaps  he's  down  in  town  visiting  that 
handsome  Miss  Thomson!" 

At  that  moment  the  door  from  the  kitchen  was 
opened,  and  in  stepped  Havard,  quite  surprised,  and 
pleased  withal,  to  greet  his  fair  neighbors.  The 
badinage  went  on,  however,  although  under  different 
conditions;  but  Jennie  did  not  venture  to  say  all 
that  was  in  her  mischievous  mind,  for  Havard  was 
hardly  of  the  same  make-up  as  Robert  Ringer,  and 
she  was  somewhat  in  awe  of  him. 

The  British  occupation  was  still  too  recent  to  be 
ignored  in  the  conversation  of  the  morning.  The 
incidents  of  interest  were  almost  numberless,  from 
the  call  of  the  mounted  pickets  for  water  from  the 
springs  on  the  Neilley  estate,  to  the  sentinel  posted 
in  the  cherry-tree  top  on  the  Jones  farm.  The  say- 
ings and  doings  of  the  officers  and  the  men,  the 
cockney  accent  of  the  ordinary  British  soldiers,  and 
the  unintelligible  parlance  of  the  Hessians,  furnished 
a  collection  of  interesting  matter  which  has  unfor- 
tunately nearly  all  vanished,  because  of  neglect  to 
record  it.  But  then,  and  for  many  succeeding  years, 
it  served  to  spice  the  small  talk  of  the  fireside,  and 
warm  the  hearts  of  the  aged  survivors  of  the  Revolu- 
tion. When  their  hair  was  white  with  the  frosts 
of  seven  or  eight  decades,  Jennie  and  Rebecca 
recited  to  their  grandchildren  the  stirring  incidents 
of  '77. 


THE  BITTER  BEFORE  THE  SWEET        151 

The  garrulous  Miss  Jennie  proved  an  acquisition 
to  her  hostess,  for  she  assumed  a  full  share  of  the 
labor  of  preparing  the  dinner.  She  handled  the 
utensils  and  procured  the  various  viands  from  their 
several  cellar  shelves  with  as  much  familiarity  as 
though  she  had  never  known  any  other  home. 
Meanwhile  the  more  demure  Miss  Rebecca  hob- 
nobbed after  a  fashion  with  Havard  in  the  sitting 
room. 

The  dinner  was  in  marked  contrast  with  the 
breakfast,  so  far  as  mental  comfort  was  concerned, 
and  Havard  felt  really  grateful  to  the  girls  for 
banishing  the  dismal  air  that  surrounded  the  first 
meal  of  the  day. 

The  artichokes  were  pronounced  delicious — as 
indeed  was  the  whole  of  the  dinner;  and  as  the 
girls'  appetite  had  been  provoked  by  their  walk, 
and  that  of  the  Browns  was  effectively  stimulated 
by  the  general  atmosphere  of  cheer,  the  noonday 
spread  was  so  effectually  disposed  of  that  Mrs. 
Brown  smilingly  said  there  would  be  no  dishes  to 
wash;  but  Jennie  and  her  companion  assumed  the 
offensive,  and  bustled  the  hostess  to  one  side  while 
they  "red  up." 

Presently  it  was  proposed  to  take  a  walk  in  the 
glen,  and  the  entire  company  descended  to  the  creek- 
side,  and  wandered  along  the  shimmering  stream 
until  they  entered  the  ravine.  The  temptation  to 
scale  the  steep  shoulder  of  Mount  Joy  was  not 
resisted.  The  girls  scrambled  up  the  rough  corner, 
assisting  themselves  by  seizing  the  slight  saplings 
and  lesser  undergrowth;  but  occasionally  some  of 


152  VALLEY  FORGE 

these  supports  that  were  not  firmly  rooted  gave  way, 
and  then  with  mingled  screams  and  laughter,  and 
many  a  contortion  of  their  bodies,  they  struggled 
to  maintain  their  footing. 

The  exercise  was  good  for  soul  and  body,  but  Mrs. 
Brown  recalled  the  climbers,  when  they  had  attained 
a  point  a  third  of  the  way  to  the  summit  of  the  sugar 
loaf,  saying  that  she  would  be  lost  if  thus  left  to  her- 
self. When  the  return  had  been  accomplished  the 
party  walked  along  the  path  leading  to  the  burnt 
forge  with  more  leisurely  steps,  the  scrambling  on 
the  hillside  having  slightly  wearied  the  ambitious 
young  ladies. 

When  they  came  within  sight  of  the  ruins  even 
Miss  Jennie's  spirits  were  sobered  at  the  contempla- 
tion of  the  baleful  imprint  of  war.  Comment  upon 
the  transaction  was  quite  free,  and  much  sympathy 
was  expressed  for  Colonel  Dewees.  As  there  was 
now  no  particular  motive  for  concealing  the  incident 
of  the  removal  of  the  stores,  Havard  spoke  of  the 
colonel's  engagement  in  that  enterprise,  and  his  nar- 
row escape  from  capture.  The  narrative  of  the 
pursuit  of  the  party,  and  the  firing  upon  the  raft 
by  the  dragoons,  was  absorbingly  exciting  to  the 
girls. 

But  their  surprise  was  marked  when  a  rustling 
in  the  bushes  behind  them  caused  them  to  turn  their 
heads,  for  they  beheld  the  identical  person  of  whom 
they  were  speaking.  He  had  overheard  their 
remarks,  and  came  forward,  smiling.  Havard  had 
not  seen  him,  or  known  of  his  whereabouts  since 
the  moment  they  had  parted,  when  Havard  sallied 


THE  BITTER  BEFORE  THE  SWEET         153 

down  the  Schuylkill  to  scout  about  the  Thomson 
place. 

The  ironmaster  entertained  the  company  for  a 
half  hour  with  reminiscences  of  the  day  so  fatal  to 
his  business,  and  of  his  subsequent  adventures. 

"While  I  was  trying  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of 
the  redcoats,"  said  the  colonel,  "I  felt  like  finding 
out  all  I  could ;  so  I  hung  on  their  rear  guard,  and 
watched  them  well.  You  know  Wayne  expected 
to  fall  on  their  rear  when  they  were  moving  across 
the  ford,  but  missed  it,  and  the  tables  were  turned. 
Well,  I  was  skirting  round  the  Swedes'  Ford,  when 
a  squadron  came  along  and  picked  me  up.  I  was 
pretty  well  put  to;  for  they  could  see  that  I  had  no 
work  on  hand,  and  seemed  to  be  keeping  quite  close 
to  their  army,  and  I  had  to  scratch  my  head  to  get 
clear  of  them.  You  see,  I  hadn't  been  expecting 
any  of  them  along,  for  I  thought  the  very  last 
detachment  had  come  in.  But,  as  luck  would  have 
it,  they  were  Hessians,  and  were  too  thick-headed 
and  too  poorly  acquainted  with  our  ways  to  catch 
me  up.  Still,  I  was  a  good  deal  afraid,  for  the 
lieutenant  that  led  them  was  the  very  fellow  you 
dealt  with  when  we  sold  the  Deutschers  sauerkraut. 
If  he  had  suspected  me  of  a  hand  in  that  it  would 
have  been  all  up  with  me.  They  did  get  some  wind 
of  that  affair,  I  think,  because  of  some  things  I 
overheard;  but  I  guess  they  were  not  thinking  of 
it  at  that  time,  for  they  did  not  refer  to  it,  but  they 
questioned  me  sharply  enough." 

"What  did  you  say,  Colonel?"  eagerly  asked  Miss 
Jennie. 


154  VALLEY  FORGE 

"O,  you  know  all  tales  pass  in  war  time.  I  told 
them  a  live  one,  of  course.  I  explained  that  I  lived 
up  the  river  several  miles,  and  that  I  had  some  pro- 
visions to  sell  to  General  Howe,  but  that  the  Conti- 
nentals were  very  strict  about  such  things,  and  that 
I  was  trying  to  find  some  way  of  getting  my  prod- 
uce into  their  hands.  That  got  them  away  from  the 
scent  they  might  have  stumbled  on,  and  they  let  me 
go,  urging  me  to  slip  through  or  around  the 
American  lines  with  my  wagon,  and  they  would  pay 
me  well." 

The  girls,  recognizing  that  the  day  was  waning, 
announced  their  purpose  to  go  home,  whereupon 
they  retraced  their  footsteps  to  the  house,  Havard 
and  the  colonel  accompanying  them  as  far  as  the 
turn  in  the  glen — for  Havard  requested  the  iron- 
master to  lend  him  a  portion  of  his  time. 

When  the  girls  were  out  of  sight — Mrs.  Brown 
having  stopped  at  her  home — Havard  opened  his 
mind  about  the  Tryon  affair  to  the  colonel,  taking 
care  to  request  secrecy. 

The  conference  lasted  fully  an  hour,  and  Mrs. 
Brown  had  become  uneasy,  when  she  saw  the  miss- 
ing men  returning  slowly  homeward.  The  colonel 
was  mournfully  impressed  with  Havard's  story, 
but  expressed  himself  as  being  far  from  surprised; 
for  the  glimpse  of  Tryon  in  the  dell  on  the  day  of 
the  slaughter  at  the  "Paoli"  had  awakened  his  sus- 
picions. 

"I  will  think  about  the  matter,  Havard,  and  we 
will  confer  again,"  was  the  colonel's  last  remark, 
after  he  had  called  attention  to  the  lateness  of  the 


THE  BITTER  BEFORE  THE  SWEET         155 

hour  and  the  shadows  in  the  ravine;  and  then  he 
shook  hands  with  his  neighbor,  and  walked  rapidly 
toward  the  home  of  his  first  wife's  brother,  Isaac 
Potts — the  square  stone  house  by  the  mouth  of  the 
creek. 


CHAPTER    XIV 
THE  ROMANCE  OF  AN  ECHO 

THROUGH  October  the  Valley  waxed  glorious  in 
the  gorgeous  tints  of  autumn.  Its  rim  blazed  with 
color,  and  meadow  and  grain  field  vied  with  each 
other  in  exhibiting  the  delicate  hues  characteristic 
of  the  season's  decadence.  The  knife  had  been  put 
into  the  corn,  and  the  shocks  of  this  golden  grain 
reminded  straggling  old  soldiers  of  the  wigwams  of 
the  red  men  in  other  days.  Mellow  pumpkins  over- 
spread the  cornfields,  and  custards  from  that  savory 
vegetable  were  beginning  to  appear  on  many  a  rustic 
table. 

The  status  of  affairs  along  the  Swedes'  Ford 
closely  resembled  the  conditions  prior  to  Brandy- 
wine's  bloody  battle ;  but  small  detachments  of  Con- 
tinental troops  patrolled  the  entire  region  to  prevent 
the  purveyal  of  farm  products  to  the  luxurious 
British,  who  were  indolently  killing  time  and  care 
in  the  chief  city  of  Pennsylvania.  These  had  too 
many  sympathizers,  and  their  cash  was  too  ready, 
to  cause  them  to  go  begging  for  supplies ;  therefore 
strict  measures  were  adopted  by  Washington  to  cut 
off  as  much  of  this  traffic  as  possible. 

The  latter  had  marched  from  Pottsgrove  to  the 
banks  of  the  Skippack,  where  he  kept  vigilant  watch 
of  his  enemy  posted  at  Germantown.  Howe 
was  not  yet  master  of  his  movements,  for  naviga- 

156 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  AN  ECHO  157 

tion  of  the  Delaware  was  obstructed  by  the  Ameri- 
can forts  at  Mud  Island  and  Red  Bank,  and 
chevaux-de-frise  at  Bylling's  Point.  Howe's 
brother,  the  admiral,  was  in  command  of  the  Brit- 
ish fleet  that  lay  between  Reedy  Island  and  New 
Castle;  and  Sir  William,  in  the  fraternal  desire  to 
assist  him  in  reducing  the  troublesome  redoubts, 
dispatched  part  of  his  forces  into  New  Jersey.  Then 
it  was  that  Washington  perceived  his  opportunity, 
and  at  dusk  of  the  third  of  October  left  the  Metuchen 
Hills  for  a  long  march  of  fifteen  miles  over  trying 
roads,  to  attack  his  ancient  enemy. 

At  daybreak  of  the  foggy  morning  that  succeeded, 
Captain  Allen  McLane,  an  enterprising  Marylander 
at  the  head  of  the  patrol,  struck  the  British  outposts 
at  Chestnut  Hill.  Then  quickly  ensued  the  rattle  of 
musketry  and  the  roar  of  artillery;  and  Wayne, 
burning  with  the  desire  to  retrieve  his  losses  at  the 
"Paoli,"  scattered  the  enemy's  light  infantry  almost 
in  a  moment  with  an  impetuous  charge  of  his 
brigade,  and,  when  they  rallied  once  and  again  to 
resist  him,  punished  them  severely  with  the  bayonet. 

The  steady  Sullivan  pressed  upon  the  enemy's  left 
wing  with  such  vigor  that  for  a  time  it  seemed  as 
though  the  entire  British  line  must  give  way,  and 
had  his  movement  been  seconded  immediately  disas- 
ter would  doubtless  have  overtaken  the  army  of 
Howe;  but  part  of  the  American  force  unwisely 
lingered  to  dislodge  those  British  who  had  cast 
themselves  into  Mr.  Chew's  stone  mansion  on  the 
lower  slope  of  Mount  Airy,  and  the  slight  delay  was 
sufficient  to  permit  the  alarmed  British  commander 


158  VALLEY  FORGE 

to  rally  his  flanks,  and  not  only  to  escape  from 
capture,  but  to  drive  back  his  adversaries  in  confu- 
sion. At  one  time  he  had  conceded  that  the  engage- 
ment was  lost — that  his  encampment  was  sur- 
rounded. For  five  miles  the  retreat  of  the  Ameri- 
cans was  contested  vigorously;  but  General  Greene 
displayed  his  strategic  skill,  and  Wayne's  cannon, 
planted  near  the  church  at  White  Marsh,  furnished 
unanswerable  arguments  for  a  halt  upon  the  part 
of  the  British. 

It  was  mortifying  that  so  gallant  an  engagement, 
thoroughly  victorious  at  first,  and  promising  an 
unexampled  Continental  triumph,  should  be  dissi- 
pated by  lack  of  cooperation;  but  the  patriots  for 
miles  around  who  heard  the  sounds  of  battle  on  that 
dark  morning  understood ;  and  were  overjoyed  that 
Washington  had  so  nearly  attained  a  signal  victory. 

October  communicated  battle  tidings  from  down 
the  Delaware,  also.  Bylling's  Point  had  suffered 
from  the  attack  of  the  vessels ;  but  Fort  Mercer,  at 
Red  Bank,  and  Fort  Mifflin  were  still  standing 
against  the  assaults  of  Howe's  men-of-war.  These 
fortifications  had  been  strengthened  by  troops  sent 
by  Washington  from  his  new  post  at  White  Marsh, 
and  Colonel  Christopher  Green  at  the  former  and 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Smith  at  the  latter  presented  a 
stout  front  to  the  imposing  naval  foe. 

Late  in  the  month  a  land  force  of  Hessians  under 
Colonel  Donop  assaulted  Fort  Mercer  with  spirit, 
but  was  defeated,  and  its  brave  leader  slain.  The 
attack,  at  the  same  time,  upon  Fort  Mifflin  was 
resisted  by  its  commander,  and  by  Commodore 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  AN  ECHO  159 

Hazelwood  of  the  American  galleys ;  and  it  was  not 
until  the  middle  of  November  that  Cornwallis,  at 
the  head  of  a  much  superior  force,  took  the  fort  at 
Red  Bank ;  and  a  powerful  armament  on  shore,  aided 
by  a  formidable  fleet,  compelled  the  evacuation  of  its 
fellow  on  Mud  Island.  Then,  only,  had  the  British 
ships  free  range  of  the  Delaware.  Once  more  it 
was  the  delay  in  sending  reinforcements,  and  the 
necessarily  tedious  movements  of  ragged,  shoeless 
men,  that  lost  the  day  to  the  patient  commander-in- 
ch ief. 

The  surrender  of  Burgoyne  electrified  the 
patriots,  for  no  familiarity  with  military  science  was 
necessary  to  make  them  understand  its  significance. 
Their  hopes  beat  high  that  Howe  would  fall  into  a 
similar  trap,  and  expectations  were  indulged  that 
Washington  would  crush  the  redcoats  by  some  bril- 
liant maneuver.  Such  a  movement  was  contemplated, 
and  in  a  council  of  war  it  was  fully  discussed.  Only 
a  few  of  the  generals,  however,  among  whom  was 
Wayne,  favored  an  attack  upon  the  strongly 
intrenched  regiments  of  Howe;  and  the  sagacious 
Washington,  at  the  very  time  when  intrigues  against 
his  influence  and  position  were  rife,  and  when  he 
might  have  won  glory  by  valor,  even  if  misdirected, 
was  steadfastly  guided  by  the  promptings  of  pru- 
dence. Formidable  indeed  was  the  line  of  British 
forts  stretching  from  the  Schuylkill  to  the  Delaware, 
and  there  is  little  probability  that  an  attack  would 
have  been  successful. 

The  early  days  of  December  originated  a  romance 
in  which  at  least  one  family  in  the  valley  was  par- 


160  VALLEY  FORGE 

ticularly  interested.  Frances  Jones,  having  occasion 
to  make  some  purchases  of  cloth,  arranged  to  spend 
a  week  with  her  cousin  Lydia  Darrach.  She  was 
not  aware  that  her  estimable  cousin  was  embarrassed 
by  the  presence  in  her  home  of  the  adjutant-general 
of  the  British  army,  else  she  might  have  deferred 
her  visit  until  the  convenience  of  her  cousin,  and  her 
own  inclinations,  could  have  been  more  distinctly 
favored.  When  she  reached  the  house  on  Second 
Street,  with  its  curious  protruding  windows  on  the 
sides,  and  airy  porch  above,  which  Whitefield 
employed  as  a  pulpit,  she  was  startled  at  meeting 
the  officer,  who  at  once  recognized  the  pleasant-faced 
girl  whom  he  saw  at  his  general's  headquarters  in 
the  Chester  Valley. 

Lydia  made  her  guest  welcome.  It  was  a  special 
satisfaction  to  have  her  under  the  peculiar  circum- 
stances, although  the  officer  and  his  callers  were 
thorough  gentlemen.  The  house  was  large,  and 
able  to  accommodate  a  goodly  number  of  visitors, 
and  the  circumstance  that  it  was  "out  of  town," 
being  across  Second  Street  bridge,  caused  it  to  be 
selected  for  various  councils  of  war.  So  Frances 
was  brought  for  the  second  time  into  approximately 
close  contact  with  distinguished  personages. 

Her  stay  at  Lydia's  was  on  the  whole  very  pleas- 
ant, the  bracing  air  of  the  first  winter  month  proving 
delightful  for  walks  about  the  town,  and  explora- 
tions of  "Bathsheba's  Bower,"  a  retreat  of  springs 
on  her  cousin's  property. 

Among  the  charms  of  Penn's  city,  of  which 
Frances  never  wearied,  was  the  water  front;  and 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  AN  ECHO  161 

many  an  hour  found  her  gazing  at  the  broad  stream, 
the  Jersey  shore  beyond  it,  and  the  vessels  that  lay 
at  anchor.  It  must  be  confessed,  too,  that  notwith- 
standing her  horror  of  warfare  she  found  some- 
thing fascinating  in  the  soldierly  bearing  of  the 
veterans  under  Howe's  command,  and  admired  their 
evolutions  in  the  streets  or  on  the  parade  ground. 

Mr.  Darrach's  pedagogical  duties  required  him 
to  be  absent  frequently,  and  Frances  was  then  even 
more  particularly  valued  by  Lydia,  who  grieved 
when  the  time  for  her  guest's  departure  approached. 
Frances  had  chosen  Wednesday  as  the  day  of  her 
farewell,  and  despite  her  cousin's  remonstrance 
insisted  upon  keeping  the  time.  Lydia  consequently 
prepared  a  special  supper  for  Tuesday  afternoon. 

While  thus  engrossed  Lydia  begged  her  cousin 
to  attend  the  door,  her  hands  being  plunged  in 
flour ;  and  this  duty  was  accepted  by  Frances.  The 
adjutant-general  seemed  to  have  an  unusual  num- 
ber of  callers. 

It  was  scarcely  more  than  six  o'clock — but  of 
course  quite  dark  at  that  season  of  the  year — when 
Frances  was  summoned  by  another  visitor.  A  candle 
dimly  burning  shed  a  faint  light  in  his  face,  and 
Frances  felt  sure  that  she  had  seen  him  before,  but 
she  could  not  identify  him.  As  for  the  man,  he 
started  sensibly  at  seeing  her.  He  was  not  in  uni- 
form, and  did  not  have  a  military  bearing.  His 
words  were  very  few,  and  his  vocal  chords  seemed 
to  be  strained.  He  appeared  uneasy,  and  lost  no 
time  in  seeking  the  adjutant-general.  But  Frances 
kept  wondering  who  the  young  man  could  be.  One 


1 62  VALLEY  FORGE 

thing  attracted  her  attention  singularly.  The  beard 
that  he  wore  was  unnatural,  and  she  suspected  that 
it  was  a  disguise.  Yet  it  had  sufficient  effect  to 
bewilder  her  concerning  the  stranger's  identity. 

While  she  was  battling  with  the  puzzling 
problem  a  knock  at  the  kitchen  door  preceded  the 
appearance  of  the  adjutant-general,  who  accosted 
Lydia  with  the  request  that  she  would  get  a  room 
in  readiness  to  receive  a  number  of  guests,  about 
whose  departure  she  should  feel  no  concern,  since 
they  would  probably  stay  late. 

Lydia,  absorbed  in  baking  her  biscuit  and  other- 
wise preparing  for  her  cousin's  enjoyment,  was  dis- 
concerted by  this  communication,  which,  of  course, 
amounted  to  a  command;  but  Frances  volunteered 
to  complete  the  arrangements,  leaving  the  hostess 
to  her  flour  tray.  After  her  departure  from  the 
kitchen  the  officer  returned,  and  said  that  he  desired 
all  the  family  to  retire  very  early  that  night. 

Mrs.  Darrach  replied  somewhat  deprecatingly : 

"Thee's  pretty  hard  upon  me,  to-day.  My  cousin, 
the  young  woman  thee  sees  with  me  this  week,  is 
going  to  leave  me;  and  I'm  getting  some  little  things 
ready  for  her,  against  her  going.  We  thought  to 
stay  up  a  little  later  to-night,  rather  than  to  retire 
earlier ;  but  I  suppose  thee  must  be  obeyed." 

"Yes,  Lydia,  matters  of  importance  require  that 
the  family  shall  be  in  bed  early  to-night.  I  regret 
to  disturb  your  intercourse  with  Miss  Jones;  there 
are  not  too  many  such  young  women  as  she,  but  it 
is  necessary.  Still,  you  need  not  send  the  family 
to  bed  before  nine." 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  AN  ECHO  163 

"I  thank  thee  for  that,  friend,  and  I  will  do  as 
thee  bids  me ;  see  what  a  plight  thee  has  caught  me 
in — "  here  she  held  up  her  hands — "I  shall  have  to 
get  a  pass  from  thee  to  get  some  more  of  this  staff 
of  life  from  the  mill." 

"Very  well,"  said  the  officer,  "you  shall  have  a 
pass  to-morrow." 

The  worthy  woman  was  about  to  say  that  she 
would  not  need  it  quite  so  soon,  but  the  officer  had 
turned  on  his  heel  and  gone  to  the  company  of  his 
latest  caller. 

When  nine  o'clock  came  all  the  family  were  duly 
in  bed,  Lydia  alone  remaining  downstairs  to  admit 
the  expected  callers.  She  fancied  that  they  would 
be  late  in  arriving,  but  they  appeared  with  surpris- 
ing promptness.  General  Howe  had  come  from 
his  home  on  High  Street,  and  with  his  arrival  Lydia 
was  informed  that  she  might  retire  until  she  was 
needed  to  attend  the  departing  guests. 

Lydia  sought  her  room,  but  not  to  sleep.  Some- 
thing peculiar  in  the  manner  of  the  adjutant-general, 
and  the  aspect  of  his  visitors,  led  her  to  suspect  that 
a  crisis  was  at  hand;  and  her  restlessness  was  so 
great  that  she  mused  upon  the  propriety  of  trying 
to  discover  the  nature  of  the  conference. 

Fortunately,  Frances  was  not  asleep.  The 
thought  of  home  made  her  wakeful,  and  her  mind 
reverted  to  the  incidents  of  her  stay  in  town. 
Besides,  she  pondered  upon  the  mystery  connected 
with  the  disguised  caller,  being  still  quite  at  sea  in 
her  guessing. 

"Frances,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Darrach,  "I  want  thy 


164  VALLEY  FORGE 

wise  opinion  concerning  an  unpleasant  thing.  Does 
thee  think  one  may  ever  do  evil  that  good  may 
come  ?" 

Her  cousin  replied,  "I  should  say  'No/  without 
better  understanding  your  question." 

"I  am  in  trouble  concerning  my  duty  to  myself 
and  to  my  country.  I  think — and  perhaps  the  Spirit 
has  moved  me  to  think  it — that  the  council  of  the 
officers  to-night  means  much  harm  to  Washington 
and  the  country ;  and  I  feel  it  borne  in  upon  me  that 
I  must  try  to  hear  what  may  be  said.  Yet  it  is 
repugnant  to  me  to  play  the  part  of  a  spy,  or 
eavesdropper — I  never  did  such  a  thing  in  my  life- 
time. What  does  thee  think  of  it?" 

To  the  ingenuous  Frances  the  query  was  a  hard 
nut  to  crack;  nor  did  she  attempt  it  rashly,  for  she 
loved  conscientiousness.  But  without  answering 
directly  she  reverted  to  the  original  form  of  the  ques- 
tion, and  said,  "Are  you  sure,  Lydia,  that  it  would 
be  doing  evil,  if  by  that  means  you  could  serve  your 
country  ?" 

"That  is  the  very  question  I  want  thee  to  help  me 
to  decide.  It  seems  so  mean  a  thing  to  listen  to 
the  private  conversation  of  others,  or  to  pry  into 
their  affairs  in  any  way.  Now  I  am  sure  thee  can 
give  me  some  good  advice." 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,  Lydia,  and  I  look  upon 
your  conscience  as  being  a  better  guide  than  mine, 
because  it  is  so  well  cultivated.  Really,  Lydia,  while 
I  sympathize  with  you  in  your  feeling,  I  think  that  it 
may  be  you  can  serve  your  country  greatly  by  yield- 
ing to  this  prompting.  It  would  always  be  wrong  to 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  AN  ECHO  165 

do  evil,  that  good  may  come ;  but  in  a  case  like  this 
I  should  think  it  would  not  be  doing  evil,  to  listen 
with  patriotic  motives.  If  evil  men  conspire  to  do 
wickedness,  surely  the  righteous  are  at  liberty  to 
overhear  their  conspiracies,  so  as  to  save  themselves 
from  the  lion's  jaws.  I  could  not  say  that  it  would 
be  right  to  tell  an  untruth  to  escape  injury,  but 
there  is  very  little  doubt  that  it  would  be  right  simply 
to  listen  with  the  view  of  preventing  evil." 

"Thee  has  made  a  distinction  that  helps  me;  yet 
I  shrink  from  putting  my  ear  to  a  keyhole,  to  hear 
what  the  officers  may  say." 

The  scrupulous  woman  sighed,  and  a  moment 
after  remarked,  "Perhaps  I  will  do  well  to  sacrifice 
my  feelings  to  the  good  cause."  Then  she  said, 
"If  it  is  to  be  done  I  had  better  do  it  without  delay." 

She  kissed  Frances  and  stole  away  toward  the 
room  of  the  council  so  noiselessly  that  she  might 
have  been  classed  with  the  fairies.  No  light  shone 
in  the  entry,  but  Lydia  could  feel  hot  blushes  suffus- 
ing her  cheeks  and  temples  as  she  bowed  her  head 
to  the  keyhole. 

It  was  an  uncomfortable  posture,  and  her  con- 
scientious qualms  were  so  marked,  that  she  was  on 
the  point  of  giving  up  the  attempt  when  her  ear 
caught  a  word  that  entirely  changed  the  current  of 
her  feelings.  A  new  wave  of  emotion  swept  over 
her,  and  she  was  thrilled  with  the  conception  of  a 
duty  speedily  opening  to  her  mind. 

In  the  midst  of  her  listening  a  step  approached 
the  door.  Lydia  was  frightened,  for  she  had  not 
thought  of  the  door  being  opened  until  the  conclusion 


1 66  VALLEY  FORGE 

of  the  council.  But  she  flew  to  her  room  with 
incredible  swiftness.  Just  after  she  had  softly  closed 
the  door  she  heard  voices  in  the  entry,  and  a  merry 
laugh  from  several  persons  at  the  expense  of 
another,  who  protested  that  he  had  heard  hard 
breathing,  and  supposed  that  some  one  was  either 
standing  at  the  door  or  passing  it.  Lydia  was  now 
dubious  as  to  what  course  to  follow.  Greater  cour- 
age was  required  to  attempt  the  risky  feat  the  sec- 
ond time.  But  again  the  call  of  patriotism  sounded 
in  her  ears,  and  she  tremblingly  trod  the  floor  of  the 
entry  in  thick  stockings.  No  further  alarm  occurred 
in  the  council,  and  perhaps  the  sharp-eared  officer 
felt  mortified  at  his  apparent  mistake ;  but  Lydia  took 
the  hint  and  controlled  her  breathing.  This  time 
she  listened  profoundly  and  long,  while  her  heart 
beat  fast  at  the  revelations  made  by  the  deep  voices 
in  the  room. 

At  last  she  heard  the  familiar  voice  of  the  adju- 
tant-general read  an  order  of  attack  upon  Washing- 
ton's camp  for  the  following  night,  which  appeared 
to  have  the  approval  of  all  present,  with  assurances 
of  cooperation.  The  remarks  that  were  now  made 
were  of  such  a  nature  that  Lydia  perceived  that  the 
business  was  effected,  and  that  it  was  unnecessary, 
if  not  perilous,  to  remain  any  longer  at  the  door. 
She  glided  off  to  her  room,  and  lay  down.  In  per- 
haps twenty  minutes  a  knock  was  heard  at  her  door, 
which  she  was  slow  in  answering.  Upon  respond- 
ing to  a  second  or  third  call  she  dallied  some 
minutes,  and  then  appeared,  and  led  the  visitors 
out  into  the  street.  A  few  incautious  remarks  at  part- 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  AN  ECHO  167 

ing  convinced  her  that  no  change  had  been  made 
in  the  program,  and  she  sought  her  room  in  a  whirl 
of  excitement  previously  unknown  to  her,  not  to 
sleep  but  to  counterplot. 

In  a  whisper  she  communicated  to  Frances,  who 
lay  at  her  side,  the  gist  of  what  she  had  overheard, 
and  asked  what  she  ought  to  do.  But  before  any 
definite  procedure  suggested  itself  Lydia  referred  to 
a  startling  feature  that  came  to  her  attention  during 
the  eavesdropping. 

"I  heard  them  talking  about  thy  home,  Frances, 
and  the  name  of  that  young  man  who  visited  thy 
mother  with  his  mother  was  mentioned,  I  am  sure. 
The  man  who  spoke  most  about  the  country  seemed 
to  know  it  as  well  as  though  he  lived  there,  and  he 
did  not  talk  like  an  officer." 

It  flashed  upon  Frances  that  it  might  be  that 
strange  civilian  she  admitted  early  in  the  evening. 
Who  could  he  be? 

"The  same  voice  spoke  of  the  maker  of  iron  at 
the  Valley  Forge,  and  of  his  being  a  spy — something 
about  sauerkraut  and  peddling,  and  how  he  had 
discovered  his  tricks." 

Then  Frances  understood  it.  The  familiar  but 
muffled  voice — the  features  disguised  with  a  beard — 
yes,  it  was  now  clear  enough;  it  was  Will  Tryon. 
And  Frances  groaned  at  the  treason. 

Little  sleep  came  to  the  eyelids  of  the  cousins  that 
night ;  and  with  the  morning  light  Lydia  had  settled 
on  a  plan  by  which  she  might  hope  to  baffle  the 
tactful  Howe. 

She  had  already  persuaded  Frances  to  remain  two 


1 68  VALLEY  FORGE 

days  more ;  and  when  breakfast  was  ended,  and  the 
dishes  put  away  carefully,  Lydia  rapped  at  the  door 
of  the  drowsy  adjutant-general  and  said,  "I  will 
thank  thee  for  that  pass,  that  I  may  procure  the 
flour  of  which  I  spoke  last  evening." 

"All  right,  Lydia,  you  shall  have  it  as  soon  as  I 
can  stir  about.  We  made  a  night  of  it  last  night ;  and 
I'm  as  sleepy  as  a  hedgehog  in  winter." 

But  the  polite  officer  aroused  himself,  prepared  the 
pass,  and  dropped  it  outside  the  door,  with  the  hope 
that  Lydia  might  have  a  safe  and  speedy  trip. 

Far  up  to  Frankford,  through  the  snow  that 
inaugurated  an  early  winter,  plodded  the  heroic 
woman,  bag  in  hand.  At  the  mill,  full  five  miles 
distant,  she  left  her  bag,  and  hastened  with  eager 
steps  toward  Washington's  camp.  Fortunately  for 
the  excited  heroine's  weary  frame,  she  met  Lieuten- 
ant-Colonel Craig,  on  his  way  to  gather  items  of 
information  respecting  the  enemy.  To  him  she  told 
her  discovery,  and  begged  him  while  laying  it  before 
the  commander-in-chief  to  withhold  her  name,  which 
he  promised  to  do. 

Then  the  faithful  creature  returned  to  the  mill  and 
secured  her  heavy  bag  of  flour,  but  walked  home 
relieved  of  a  heavier  mental  burden.  Frances 
rejoiced  with  her  at  the  success  of  her  simple  plan, 
and  both  women  anxiously  awaited  the  consum- 
mation. 

That  night  they  observed  the  march  of  the  British 
troops  toward  White  Marsh,  and  knew  that  they 
were  confident  of  success.  But  the  ubiquitous 
Captain  McLane  with  a  small  force  attacked  them 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  AN  ECHO  169 

on  the  Germantown  road  about  eleven  o'clock,  and 
harassed  them  until  daybreak,  when  they  encamped 
at  Chestnut  Hill.  There  was  now  no  possibility  of 
effecting  a  surprise,  and  a  three  days'  skirmish 
showed  Howe  that  he  could  not  advantageously 
give  battle ;  so  he  stole  away  to  the  comforts  of  the 
fireside,  and  resigned  himself  to  the  indolence  of  an 
inactive  winter. 

And  Lydia  rejoiced  when  her  redcoat  guests 
returned,  empty  of  spoil  and  grumbling  at  their  bar- 
ren adventure.  The  adjutant-general  closely  cate- 
chised her  as  to  the  whereabouts  of  her  family  on 
that  important  evening,  and  was  assured  that  all 
of  them  were  in  their  beds. 

"As  for  yourself,  Lydia,  I  know  that  you  were 
in  bed,  for  you  took  so  long  to  answer  when  I 
knocked  at  your  door.  Alack-a-day !  how  could  the 
thing  leak  out !" 

And  Lydia  answered  neither  yea  nor  nay.  But 
she  was  glad  that  she  had  mentioned  the  need  of 
flour  before  the  council  met,  and  that  the  officer  had 
not  heard  her  explanation  that  she  did  not  require 
it  immediately. 

Frances  Jones,  in  the  care  of  a  casual  visitor  liv- 
ing near  her  home,  rode  on  to  the  snowbound  Valley, 
pondering  in  her  heart  the  strange  incidents  of  her 
visit,  and  wondering  what  episode  would  be  next. 


CHAPTER   XV 
WAR    AND    WEDDING 

THE  impatience  of  a  lover  triumphed  in  the  selec- 
tion of  an  early  date  for  the  wedding  of  Havard 
Brown  and  Ethel  Thomson.  The  middle  of  Decem- 
ber was  the  very  earliest  that  Ethel  would  concede, 
and  she  affected  to  pout  about  that;  but  Havard 
urged  that  the  honeymoon  should  anticipate  the 
absorbing  labors  of  the  spring. 

The  annals  of  love-making  need  not  be  burdened 
with  an  enumeration  of  the  details  of  the  marriage 
preparations.  Ethel's  time  was  fully  occupied ;  and 
Havard  was  surprised  at  the  trifles  that  called  for 
his  own  attention.  There  were  also  necessary  some 
arrangements  of  greater  importance,  and  his  mother, 
who  superintended  these,  was  certainly  sufficiently 
busy. 

Somber  tints  succeeded  the  flashing  hues  of 
autumn  in  the  Great  Valley.  But  not  even  winter 
chill  and  drear  could  obliterate  the  natural  beauty 
of  the  sentinel  hills  that  guarded  the  charming  vale ; 
and  the  purple  background  of  the  Forge  gap  was  not 
the  least  of  its  varied  charms. 

On  the  last  of  Havard's  trips  to  the  home  of  his 
ladylove  he  performed  the  duty  from  which  lovers 
invariably  shrink,  the  engagement  of  the  officiating 
clergyman.  Ethel,  although  not  a  member  of  Christ 
Church,  was  an  attendant  upon  its  services,  and  as 
a  matter  of  course  its  rector  was  chosen  for  the 

170 


WAR  AND  WEDDING  171 

celebration  of  the  nuptials.  The  church  itself  had 
greatly  interested  Havard  by  its  style,  and  the  inci- 
dents of  its  erection.  It  was  already  three  quarters 
of  a  century  since  the  first  small  edifice  was  built, 
and  a  half  century  since  the  larger  structure  had  been 
built  around  it,  public  worship  in  the  meanwhile 
continuing.  The  simplicity  of  the  times  was  shown 
in  the  use  of  a  tree  as  a  tower  for  the  old  bell  while 
the  remodeling  proceeded.  Mrs.  Thomson  told  with 
a  relish  the  story  of  the  efforts  made  to  finish  the 
church  in  accordance  with  Dr.  Kearsley's  plans,  and 
the  naive  employment  of  the  livery  of  a  nameless 
personage  with  which  to  serve  the  Lord  of  Hosts, 
in  the  erection  of  the  second  steeple,  and  the  pur- 
chase of  a  chime  of  bells  and  a  clock.  "The  Phila- 
delphia Steeple  Lottery"  was  entirely  successful, 
measured  by  its  accumulation  of  funds,  and  for  a 
quarter  century  the  edifice  had  been  complete. 

But  its  chimes  did  not  tintinnabulate  upon  British 
ears ;  and  their  melody  was  also  lost  for  a  season  to 
the  patriots.  The  American  commissary-general, 
foreseeing  the  entry  of  Howe's  army,  dispatched  the 
bells  to  Trenton,  to  be  hidden  there  until  the  invaders 
could  be  dispossessed  of  their  urban  prize. 

Havard  had  attended  Ethel  to  the  church  service, 
and  had  closely  remarked  the  great  front  window 
and  the  sounding-board  that  canopied  the  minister, 
as  in  his  canonicals  he  read  the  lessons  and  the 
homily  of  the  day. 

The  rector  was  the  Rev.  Jacob  Duche,  whose 
fame  had  both  reached  its  zenith  and  suffered  an 
inglorious  eclipse.  Not  only  Philadelphia,  but  the 


172  VALLEY  FORGE 

whole  country,  rang  with  his  praises,  when,  at  the 
first  meeting  of  the  Continental  Congress,  he  offered 
a  prayer  for  the  divine  blessing  upon  its  perilous 
project.  It  was  on  Monday,  the  fifth  of  September, 
1774,  when  that  simple  yet  august  body  of  lovers 
of  their  country  met  in  Carpenters'  Hall.  Mr. 
Gushing,  of  Massachusetts,  moved  that  the  session 
be  opened  with  prayer,  but  objections  were  made  on 
the  score  of  divisions  in  religious  sentiment.  Mr. 
Samuel  Adams,  broad  in  his  views,  proposed  that 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Duche,  a  man  of  piety  and  virtue,  and 
a  devoted  friend  of  America,  be  requested  to  read 
prayers  on  the  following  morning.  The  motion  car- 
ried, and  Peyton  Randolph,  president  of  the  Con- 
gress, called  upon  Mr.  Duche,  and  preferred  the 
request,  which  was  granted. 

At  the  opening  hour  next  morning  the  reverend 
gentleman  appeared  with  his  clerk,  and  read  several 
prayers  of  the  established  order  of  service,  followed 
by  the  Psalter  for  the  day,  including  the  thirty- 
fifth  psalm.  Coming  upon  the  heels  of  the  rumor 
of  a  cannonade  in  Boston,  it  seemed  divinely  direct- 
ed, and  suited  to  the  distressful  situation.  Then  the 
rector,  as  if  inspired  by  the  occasion,  burst  into  an 
extempore  prayer  of  such  pathos  and  sublimity  that 
the  entire  Congress  was  electrified.  The  Rev.  Mr. 
White,  afterward  Bishop,  noted  however,  that  of 
all  the  body  of  statesmen  only  George  Washington 
knelt. 

In  1776  Mr.  Duche  was  elected  chaplain  of  Con- 
gress, but  resigned  in  October,  directing  his  salary 
to  be  given  to  the  families  of  officers  who  had  fallen 


WAR  AND  WEDDING  173 

in  battle.  But,  alas!  when  the  British  came  into 
Philadelphia  like  a  cloud,  the  good  man's  faith 
failed,  and  he  wrote  to  the  American  commander- 
in-chief  recommending  that  the  patriotic  cause  be 
abandoned  as  hopeless.  When  the  latter  sent  the 
offensive  letter  to  Congress  it  was  answered  by  the 
minister's  own  brother-in-law. 

It  seems  scarcely  appropriate  that  such  vulgar 
matters  as  relate  to  food  and  drink  should  enter 
into  the  holy  demesne  of  matrimonial  topics;  but 
Ethel's  mother  took  solace  to  herself  in  the  relief 
that  had  lately  come  to  housekeepers  from  the  open- 
ing of  navigation  in  the  river.  It  was  her  design 
that  the  wedding  feast  should  be  as  elaborate  as 
custom  enjoined.  But  the  Continental  Cerberus  at 
Red  Bank  and  Mud  Island  had  very  effectually 
blockaded  the  passage  of  relief  ships,  on  one  hand, 
while  on  the  other  the  vigilance  of  Washington's 
scouting  parties  had  sadly  interfered  with  Howe's 
foragers,  with  the  consequence  that  provisions  had 
become  extremely  scarce  and  costly.  Though  a 
thrifty  housekeeper  carried  coin  to  market,  it  cost 
her  a  dollar  per  pound  for  beef,  while  ordinary 
barnyard  fowls  brought  ten  shillings  apiece,  and 
plebeian  potatoes  as  much  as  sixteen  shillings  per 
bushel. 

Now,  however,  for  two  or  three  weeks  the 
markets  had  become  swollen  with  the  good  things 
of  the  table,  and,  small  as  such  a  circumstance  may 
appear  in  comparison  with  the  weightier  matters 
of  the  marriage  law,  it  lifted  a  burden  of  some 
importance  from  the  maternal  mind.  So  the  prepa- 


1/4  VALLEY  FORGE 

rations  for  the  wedding  dinner  went  forward  with 
much  of  the  usual  smoothness. 

The  news  of  the  approaching  event  duly  spread 
in  various  directions;  and  through  Lydia  Darrach 
in  the  city,  and  Jennie  Reese  in  the  valley,  it  came 
to  Frances  Jones's  ears.  Later  a  chance  meeting 
between  Mrs.  Brown  and  Mrs.  Jones  brought  confir- 
mation of  the  rumor.  No  invitation  was  received 
by  Frances  or  her  mother,  for  Ethel  decided  that 
the  wedding  should  be  confined  to  the  immediate 
family,  which  was  greatly  to  the  relief  of  Havard, 
who  would  have  found  it  perplexing  to  dispose  of 
Frances  in  the  event  of  the  issue  of  invitations. 
The  thorn  of  past  relationship  pricked  him,  but  more 
than  this  he  felt  a  manly  desire  to  free  so  true  a 
friend  from  embarrassment. 

It  was  the  eighteenth  of  December — the  marriage 
Thursday.  Dawn  found  the  young  groom  already 
far  upon  his  preparations.  Not  having  replenished 
his  stock  as  yet,  he  had  procured  an  extra  horse  from 
Cousin  Samuel  Havard — the  same  which  Ethel  rode 
into  Philadelphia  after  her  stay  at  the  farm — to 
bring  her  back  again,  happy  omen ! 

There  was  danger  that,  riding  Saladin,  he  might 
be  mistaken  for  a  gallant  officer  of  the  enemy  by 
some  scouting  party  of  British,  for  he  was  sprucely 
dressed  in  a  well-fitting,  rich  suit  of  blue,  with  white 
waistcoat  and  greatcoat ;  and  his  mother  was  afraid 
that  the  soil  of  travel  would  bedim  his  luster. 

Passing  underneath  the  signboard  of  the  "King," 
Havard  observed  the  roads  patrolled  by  Continental 
guards,  who,  he  supposed,  were  connected  with  the 


WAR  AND  WEDDING  175 

late  movement  of  the  army  from  White  Marsh.  As 
he  rode  through  the  Gulph  ravine,  the  trees  bare, 
and  the  ground  beneath  them  strewn  with  the  fallen 
foliage,  he  perceived  a  line  of  sentinels,  from  which 
he  inferred  that  he  should  soon  see  an  encamp- 
ment. 

Emerging  from  the  ravine,  he  found  the  army 
clustered  upon  the  hillside,  and  in  the  basin  at  its 
foot.  The  breath  of  winter  was  apparent,  yet  the 
soldiers  had  but  flimsy  tents  in  which  to  imagine  a 
shelter  from  the  blasts  that  soughed  in  the  branches 
of  the  oaks  and  chestnuts.  Their  wretched  clothing 
and  lack  of  blankets  touched  the  young  man  to  the 
heart. 

Havard  was  sufficiently  interested  in  the  encamp- 
ment to  scan  it  in  every  direction.  It  was  an  unusual 
number  of  men  of  war;  and  the  officers  who  rode 
about,  and  the  cannon,  impressed  him.  As  he 
journeyed  on  he  found  that  the  picket  line  extended 
for  several  miles  to  the  eastward.  It  was  nearly 
eleven  o'clock  when  Havard  rode  up  to  the  house  of 
his  beloved,  and  it  was  but  turned  the  hour  when  his 
steeds  were  transferred  to  the  care  of  a  nearby 
hostler,  and  he  knocked  at  the  front  door. 

It  was  Ethel  who  met  her  affianced,  and  escorted 
him  into  the  parlor.  To  his  delight  it  was  unoccu- 
pied, and  he  emphasized  that  fact  by  bestowing  upon 
her  a  tender  caress,  while  he  whispered  his  joy  that 
the  long-looked-for  day  had  come  at  last.  But  the 
roguish  girl  reminded  him  that  he  had  really  been 
so  precipitate  in  his  lovemaking  that  it  could  not 
have  been  long  looked  for,  whereupon  he  responded 


176  VALLEY  FORGE 

in  another  salute,  which  she  declared  would  compel 
her  to  readjust  her  toilet  for  the  ceremony. 

Havard  had  been  present  in  the  Valley  meeting- 
house when  William  Walker  and  Sarah  Wells 
solemnized  their  nuptials.  He  remembered  well  the 
sunny  day  in  May  in  the  midweek  meeting,  when  the 
congregation,  sensibly  increased  by  the  knowledge 
of  the  event,  and  numbering  many  not  exactly  of 
Friends'  faith  and  practice,  gathered  in  the  plain 
structure  built  amid  the  rolling  dales  of  the  eastern 
section  of  Chester  County. 

Quietly  all  sat  in  the  simple  benches;  while 
through  the  open  windows  came  the  fragrant  scent 
of  spicewood  and  shrubs.  The  white  blossoms  of 
the  cherry  trees  were  driven  by  occasional  breezes 
into  the  house  of  worship,  and  fell  at  the  feet  of  the 
waiting  congregation,  while  the  carolings  of 
feathered  songsters  furnished  a  natural  music  to  the 
place  from  which  instruments  of  art  and  vocal  har- 
monies were  alike  banished. 

Presently  a  subdued  thrill  passed  through  the 
apparently  impassive  gathering,  and  William  and 
Sarah  entered  the  room.  How  touching  it  was  to 
witness  their  demeanor  as  they  bravely  moved  up 
to  the  front  seats  and  faced  the  company !  Happily 
it  was  not  staring  eyes  that  met  their  own — eyes 
full  of  vulgar  curiosity,  determined  to  daunt  the 
timid  bride  and,  if  the  truth  were  known,  the  equally 
timid  groom.  Rarely  did  their  eyes  meet  those  of 
any  in  the  congregation ;  for  with  becoming  modesty 
and  reverence,  the  latter  usually  directed  their  gaze 
to  the  floor ;  but  it  was  not  in  human  nature  not  to 


WAR  AND  WEDDING  177 

glance  occasionally  at  the  interesting  pair,  yet  the 
look  was  always  so  kindly  and  sympathetic  that  it 
gave  no  umbrage  when  detected. 

A  comparatively  long  silence  was  at  last  broken 
by  a  Friend  in  the  elevated  seats,  who  appeared  in 
supplication,  the  congregation  standing  while  he 
knelt.  After  another  pause  a  visiting  minister  was 
moved  to  preach  upon  the  sweetness  of  fellowship, 
and  especially  of  the  sacredness  of  the  marriage 
relation.  No  doubt  the  contagious  inspiration  of 
the  moment  would  have  moved  others  to  speak  or 
pray,  but  the  young  couple  determined  to  terminate 
the  lesser  ordeal  by  courageously  confronting  the 
greater;  and  they  arose,  and,  facing  each  other, 
William  took  Sarah's  hand,  and  said,  "In  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Lord,  and  this  assembly,  I  take  Sarah 
Wells  to  be  my  wife,  promising  with  divine  assist- 
ance to  be  unto  her  a  loving  and  faithful  husband, 
until  death  shall  separate  us." 

There  was  a  silence  that  could  be  felt  when  he 
concluded,  and  Sarah,  copying  the  action,  tremu- 
lously but  clearly  responded,  "  In  the  presence  of 
the  Lord,  and  this  assembly,  I  take  William  Walker 
to  be  my  husband,  promising  by  divine  assistance 
to  be  unto  him  a  loving  and  faithful  wife,  until  death 
shall  separate  us." 

Then  a  certificate  was  brought  by  the  elders, 
which  was  signed  by  the  contracting  parties,  and 
also  by  the  majority  of  those  who  were  present. 

It  seemed  like  a  dream  to-day,  as  Havard  fancied 
it  enacted  again.  His  feeling  toward  Ethel  was 
affected  by  the  pathetic  beauty  of  that  simple  cere- 


178  VALLEY  FORGE 

mony  in  the  Valley;  and,  while  he  felt  himself 
scarcely  equal  to  it,  he  almost  longed  for  the  privi- 
lege of  taking  Ethel  by  the  hand  and  in  token  of 
his  deep  affection  addressing  her  as  William  did 
Sarah. 

After  a  greeting  from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thomson, 
and  Ethel's  girl  friend,  Miss  Polly  Reed,  who  now 
appeared,  fresh  from  active  but  invisible  duties,  Ha- 
vard  was  conscious  that  but  a  little  while  would 
probably  intervene  before  the  arrival  of  the  minister ; 
and  now  a  trifling  uneasiness  seized  him  lest  some- 
thing might  detain  him.  But  in  ample  time  Mr. 
Duche  was  seen  through  the  window  approaching 
the  house,  and  his  knock  was  not  required  to  admit 
him. 

Salutes  followed,  and  after  a  brief  chat  the  rector 
discovered  that  all  was  ready,  when,  calling  upon 
the  company  to  stand  up,  he  proceeded  to  read  the 
marriage  service  of  the  Church  of  England. 

Ethel  was  apparently  entirely  self-possessed,  but 
a  regal  air  characterized  her  as  she  stood  in  the 
center  of  the  parlor.  A  strange  nervousness  took 
possession  of  Havard,  which  he  felt  unable  to  con- 
trol. Whether  it  was  due  to  hyper-timidity,  or  to 
the  rector's  manner  in  the  service,  cannot  be  said. 
But  when  the  groom  repeated  after  the  minister  the 
words  of  holy  betrothal  he  took  courage.  The 
prayer  and  the  benediction  were  so  reverent  and 
sympathetic  in  tone,  that  an  actual  spiritual  gift 
seemed  to  have  been  imparted  by  the  rector,  in 
whom  already  was  working  that  curious  mysticism 
which  afterward  became  so  marked  a  characteristic. 


WAR  AND  WEDDING  179 

There  were  suggestions  of  tears  in  the  eyes  of 
the  little  company  of  spectators,  for  joy  as  well  as 
sorrow  has  its  times  of  weeping.  And  at  the  con- 
clusion of  the  ceremony  Ethel's  mother  was  momen- 
tarily overcome  as  she  pressed  her  daughter  to  her 
heart.  Nor  was  it  an  unworthy  sign  that  the  bride 
wept  freely  also.  But  smiles  dissipated  the  momen- 
tary sadness,  and  a  freedom  that  was  unknown  dur- 
ing the  repressive  period  before  and  through  the 
service  ensued,  wherein  all  participated,  and  the  final 
arrangements  of  the  feast  were  consummated.  A 
rather  long  wedding  journey  was  still  to  be  taken 
by  the  happy  couple,  and  it  was  expedient  that  delay 
should  not  operate  to  their  disadvantage,  and 
darkness  augment  the  ordinary  discomfort  of 
travel. 

The  rector  remained  to  the  wedding  dinner,  and, 
though  dignity  was  never  wanting  in  his  manner, 
his  naturalness  of  expression  and  cordiality  con- 
tributed to  its  enjoyment.  Wit  and  humor  were 
-not  lacking,  and  Havard's  ideas  of  ministerial 
character  and  habits  underwent  some  change — but 
not  at  all  to  the  detriment  of  the  cloth. 

Some  expressions  upon  the  part  of  both  groom 
and  bride  exhibited  their  desire  to  lose  no  time  in 
departure,  and  this  fact  induced  a  comparatively 
early  close  of  the  pleasant  meal.  Ethel  wished  to 
complete  the  journey  before  nightfall,  because 
of  possible  contact  with  the  roving  parties  constantly 
sent  out  by  both  armies. 

In  due  time  the  bride  was  arrayed  in  traveling 
costume,  and  the  horses,  with  certain  pieces  of  bag- 


180  VALLEY  FORGE 

gage  attached,  were  brought  to  the  door  for  the 
wedded  pair. 

Farewells  were  spoken,  not  without  emotion  on 
either  side;  and,  amid  good  wishes  and  fervent 
prayers  for  long  life  and  happy  relationship,  the 
horses'  heads  were  turned  out  High  Street,  and  the 
clattering  of  their  hoofs  soon  ceased  in  the  hearing 
of  the  little  group  that  gazed  after  the  pilgrims. 

To  avoid  the  army  at  the  Gulph,  the  happy  pair 
kept  the  Lancaster  road  without  change,  until  they 
struck  the  Church  road.  The  "Buck,"  the  "Plough," 
and  the  "Spread  Eagle"  displayed  the  usual  quotas 
of  idlers,  who  stared  at  them,  but,  compared  with  an 
encounter  with  the  troops,  the  annoyance  was  slight. 
Nightfall  was  but  slightly  advanced  when  they 
reached  Mount  Joy,  and  received  such  a  welcome  as 
only  a  solicitous  mother  can  bestow  upon  her  son 
and  his  bride. 

Ethel  remarked  upon  the  excellence  of  the  supper 
at  which  Mrs.  Brown  caused  her  to  be  seated.  Deli- 
cacy and  thoughtfulness  manifested  so  naturally 
appealed  to  her  gratitude,  and  augured  well.  The 
tea  was  relished  by  both  the  travelers,  the  excite- 
ment of  the  wedding  being  over,  and  the  ride  having 
induced  a  substantial  appetite.  The  trio  lingered 
long  over  the  good  cheer,  for  no  duty  pressed  upon 
them.  Pleasant  projects  were  discussed,  and  plans 
for  the  future  lightly  and  cheerfully  dwelt  upon : 
and  after  they  had  forsaken  the  table,  and  gathered 
by  the  blazing  logs  in  the  great  fireplace,  each  built 
in  the  bright  flames  that  played  about  the  burning 
pile  the  castle  in  the  air  that  was  to  be. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
FORTIFIED  FAVOR 

THE  December  honeymoon  was  rudely  disturbed 
before  it  was  quite  twenty-four  hours  old.  Havard 
and  Ethel,  in  consultation  about  some  minor  adorn- 
ments in  the  sitting  room,  were  summoned  by  Mrs. 
Brown  to  the  front  door,  where  she  had  observed  a 
squad  of  soldiers  engaged,  as  she  supposed,  in  tak- 
ing down  that  guardian  of  privacy.  But  when  Ha- 
vard opened  it  he  discovered  that  marks  were  simply 
being  put  upon  it,  and  the  sergeant  in  charge 
informed  him  that  the  American  army  was  coming 
forthwith  to  the  vicinity  of  Mount  Joy,  and  that 
the  various  houses  adjacent  to  it  would  be  required 
for  the  quarters  of  the  general  officers.  In  view  of 
the  location  of  the  artillery  park,  the  Brown  mansion 
had  been  selected  as  the  residence  of  General  Knox, 
the  chief  of  that  arm  of  the  service. 

Even  a  joyous  bridegroom  thwarted  in  his  plans 
may  prove  a  philosopher,  and  we  must  give  Havard 
Brown  the  credit  of  having  become  an  intelligent 
patriot.  Besides,  whatever  reluctance  to  entertain 
military  strangers  was  experienced  by  the  Browns 
was  shared  by  the  entire  community,  who  were 
decidedly  averse  to  the  presence  of  the  army.  To 
those  who  favored  the  Colonial  cause — and  many 
were  only  lukewarm  therein — American  occupation 

i8t 


1 82  VALLEY  FORGE 

was  preferable  to  British,  but  only  as  a  matter  of 
sentiment;  for  the  drain  upon  their  resources  was 
heavier  thus  than  when  their  supplies  were  pre- 
empted by  the  redcoats,  who  gave  in  exchange — 
except  in  cases  of  recognized  active  "rebels" — the 
yellow  coin  of  the  English  realm,  which  was  vastly 
superior  in  purchasing  power  to  the  flimsy  parody 
known  as  "Continental  money." 

An  hour  after  sunrise  on  the  eleventh  of  the 
month  the  van  of  the  Continental  army  took  its 
departure  from  its  stronghold  in  the  hills  about  the 
Marsh.  At  Matson's  Ford  it  crossed  the  Schuylkill, 
and  got  into  conflict  with  scouting  parties  of  Corn- 
wallis's  advance  which  happened  to  be  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, and  then  retired  to  the  east  side,  where  it 
was  joined  by  the  remainder  of  the  troops  that 
struck  their  tents  later  in  the  day. 

On  the  following  day,  in  a  severe  snowstorm,  the 
army  ascended  the  river  to  the  Swedes'  Ford,  where 
it  prepared  to  cross  upon  thirty-six  wagons  backed 
into  the  stream,  and  covered  with  a  platform  of 
fence  rails.  All  that  night  the  uncertain  bridge 
shook  under  the  tread  of  the  slowly  moving  and 
chilled  patriots,  and  at  sunrise  they  took  up  their 
line  of  march  for  the  nearby  Gulph,  whose  important 
pass  it  was  desirable  to  fortify  against  the  occupation 
of  the  enemy.  It  was  here  where  Havard  saw  them 
on  the  last  day  but  one  of  their  stay,  which  covered 
six  days.  On  the  road  to  the  Gulph  the  prints  of 
bloody  feet  were  discernible,  and  in  several  cases 
men  perished  from  exposure. 

Now  a  ragged  army  came  up  the  Gulph  road, 


FORTIFIED  FAVOR  183 

divided,  crossed  the  fields  here  and  there,  to  places 
arranged  for  by  the  engineers  who  had  reconnoitered 
the  locality,  and  took  post  upon  the  elevated  ground. 
To  the  wondering  eyes  of  the  comparatively  few 
citizens  who  saw  the  unwonted  sight  it  appeared  as 
though  a  swarm  of  mammoth  bees  had  settled  upon 
the  roads  and  the  fields.  The  fences  were  taken 
down,  and  the  trampling  of  hundreds  of  men  over 
the  most  direct  route  to  designated  points  speedily 
converted  the  gray  fields  into  highways. 

But  the  elevations  were  mostly  covered  with 
forests,  and  some  of  the  trees  were  of  noble  girth 
and  height.  Among  the  sturdy  followers  of  Wash- 
ington were  men  of  considerable  practice  in  clear- 
ing land,  and  these  attacked  the  trees  in  every  direc- 
tion, until  hundreds  of  giants  were  prone  upon  the 
ground.  The  Browns,  with  many  others,  groaned 
at  this  consumption  of  the  woods,  but  looked  with 
curiosity  upon  the  progress  of  the  work  of  fortify- 
ing and  hutting  the  soldiery. 

For  the  moment,  however,  interest  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  personal  side,  for  before  night  the  officer 
whom  they  were  involuntarily  to  entertain  arrived 
and  took  possession  of  his  quarters.  It  was  a  stout, 
compact  man  whom  they  saluted  as  General  Knox. 
Havard  recollected  to  have  heard,  that  he  was 
formerly  a  Boston  bookseller,  and  had  distinguished 
himself  as  a  volunteer  at  the  engagement  on  Breed's 
Hill.  His  movements  and  manner  were  essentially 
those  of  a  business  man,  and  Havard  was  favorably 
impressed  with  his  methods  of  administration  in 
connection  with  his  own  command.  There  were 


184  VALLEY  FORGE 

frequent  opportunities  for  conversation  between  the 
general  and  his  host,  and  the  former  was  not  averse 
to  speaking  upon  authors  and  their  productions,  and 
thus  conferred  upon  Havard  some  valuable  favors. 

The  general's  comparative  youth  was  another 
element  which  created  a  species  of  bond  between 
himself  and  his  host,  for  he  still  lacked  three  years 
of  being  thirty.  His  close  relation  to  Washington, 
who  reposed  an  affectionate  confidence  in  him, 
was  a  circumstance  that  brought  gratification  to 
Havard,  who  thereby  enjoyed  an  occasional 
glimpse  of  the  illustrious  commander-in-chief. 

Far  up  on  the  southern  slope  of  Mount  Joy,  fac- 
ing the  Brown  mansion,  the  troops  commenced  a 
long  intrenchment.  The  hard  picking  in  the  stony 
soil,  though  very  wearisome,  had  at  least  the  bene- 
ficial effect  of  keeping  the  workmen  warm  while 
engaged  in  it;  for  the  intense  cold  was  already 
unfavorably  affecting  them.  Their  toil  continued 
until,  in  an  unbroken  line,  several  thousand  feet  of 
embankment  stretched  away  to  the  eastward  and 
northward. 

Below,  in  front  of  the  western  portion,  lay  Wood- 
ford's  Virginians.  Farther  to  the  east  was  a 
redoubt  named  after  the  commanding  general,  while 
across  the  Church  road,  on  an  eminence  well  suited 
to  the  control  of  the  adjacent  country,  though  not 
so  high  as  Mount  Joy,  another  line  of  intrenchments 
extended  toward  the  river,  at  a  point  two  and  a  half 
miles  below  the  Forge.  Scott  and  Wayne  and  Poor 
lay  upon  this  rising  ground,  while  beyond  them 
Glover,  Learned,  Patterson,  Weedon,  and  Muhlen- 


FORTIFIED  FAVOR  185 

berg  held  the  line  of  resistance  to  the  encroachment 
of  the  British.  Knox's  artillery  was  stationed  a 
little  to  the  west  of  the  Gulph  road,  while  the 
remainder  of  the  troops  found  positions  on  the  road 
parallel  with  the  river,  commanding  Fatland  Ford. 

The  hutting  of  the  troops  proceeded  as  rapidly  as 
possible.  Havard  learned  some  lessons  from  the 
ingenuity  of  these  crude  architects.  Each  hut  was 
fourteen  by  sixteen  feet,  and  was  made  of  logs, 
those  of  the  roof  being  closed  with  split  slabs.  The 
sides  were  made  more  compact  with  clay,  and  a  fire- 
place was  provided  of  wood  covered  with  clay.  The 
slab  door  fronted  the  street.  In  the  rear  of  the  huts 
of  the  private  soldiers  were  those  of  the  officers.  The 
population  of  a  hut  of  the  rank  and  file  consisted  of 
a  round  dozen  men. 

The  generous  chieftain  called  so  providentially 
to  the  command  of  the  army  was  touched  by  the 
sufferings  of  his  men,  and  exhibited  his  sympathy 
by  pitching  his  tent  beneath  a  fine  oak  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  artillery,  where  he  remained  until  the  hutting 
was  accomplished,  when  he  requested  that  the  Potts 
mansion  be  granted  him  for  general  headquarters. 

It  was  some  time  before  Havard's  desire  to  see 
the  entire  cordon  of  the  encampment  was  gratified, 
for  a  great  snow  fell  upon  the  land,  and  those  who 
had  no  urgent  business  to  call  them  from  their 
homes  were  only  too  glad  to  remain  there  in  snug 
comfort.  Havard  was  returning  one  day  from  an 
errand  some  distance  up  the  river,  when  light  flakes 
dropped  from  the  leaden  clouds  that  canopied  the 
hills  and  river,  and  soon  the  feathery  messengers 


1 86  VALLEY  FORGE 

fell  in  myriads.  By  the  time  he  reached  Valley 
Creek  the  ground  was  white,  and  on  the  limbs  of 
the  leafless  trees  was  a  thick  and  increasing  stratum 
of  snow.  The  rare  beauty  of  the  winter  scenery 
struck  Havard  anew  as  he  turned  up  the  little  stream 
and  saw  the  falling  host  outlined  against  the  back- 
ground of  the  hills  on  both  its  sides.  At  the  bend 
near  the  site  of  the  burnt  forge  the  ravine  was 
imposing  in  its  winter  dress,  and  the  soft  rustle  of 
the  vapory  particles,  as  they  fell  upon  leaf  or  bush, 
added  to  the  impressiveness  of  the  scene.  Faster  and 
faster  they  were  scattered  by  the  invisible  reservoirs 
of  the  upper  air,  and  the  forms  of  the  sentinels,  as 
they  paced  their  beats  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Joy,  along 
the  creek  road,  were  only  dimly  visible  at  even  a 
little  distance.  The  picture  was  one  that  Havard 
long  remembered,  for  many  a  slumber  in  after  years 
was  obtruded  upon  by  penumbral  figures,  bearing 
muskets,  pacing  wearily  back  and  forth  in  the 
recesses  of  the  ravine. 

The  snowfall  continued  until  the  country  was 
immaculate  in  a  bridal  dress.  The  forests  were  full, 
the  few  roads  the  country  knew  were  filled,  and  the 
roofs  of  the  houses  and  barns  that  dotted  the  locality 
were  groaning  under  white  burdens.  Anon  the 
sun  came  out  of  his  cloudy  bed,  and  the  effect  of 
his  golden  beams  upon  the  snowy  hills  and  vales 
was  bewitching. 

But  the  privations  of  the  soldiers  could  not  be 
concealed  by  aesthetics  in  either  nature  or  art,  and 
the  hard  times  of  the  encampment  waxed  worse. 
Both  food  and  clothing  were  very  scarce,  and  it 


FORTIFIED  FAVOR  187 

.hilled  Havard  to  the  heart  to  see  sentinels  scantily 
clad,  with  feet  wrapped  in  rags,  patrolling  their 
stations  of  duty.  But  he  saw  many  such  sights. 

It  was  a  splendid  struggle  in  which  these  worthy 
souls  endured  during  the  long  and  severe  winter. 
But  human  nature  exhibited  its  propensities  at 
times,  and  men  wandered  away  in  all  directions  in 
the  search  after  food.  Some  of  them  roamed  for 
miles  around,  often  in  danger  from  foraging  parties 
of  the  British.  The  hospitable  home  of  the  Neilleys, 
in  the  glen  near  Peggy  Hambleton's,  entertained 
many  a  half-starved  soldier  with  the  best  it  could 
afford,  which  was  usually  a  large  platter  of  boiled 
mush,  served  in  the  cellar  upon  a  great  rock  that 
had  not  been  excavated  from  its  position.  Here, 
secure  from  curious  eyes,  the  nearly  famished  strag- 
glers ate  for  once  to  repletion  and  blessed  the  kind 
hearts  of  the  donors  for  their  practical  sympathy. 

"Ethel,"  said  Havard  one  afternoon,  "do  you 
remember  that  young  fellow  we  saw  gunning  when 
we  rode  into  town  after  the  burning  of  your  uncle's 
house?" 

"Do  you  mean  the  one  who  shot  a  rabbit  in  the 
road?" 

"Yes,  young  Beaver,  the  crack  shot." 

"O,  yes,  I  recollect  him  very  well;  he  seemed  a 
very  slender  young  man." 

"Well,  he's  in  trouble  now,  because  he  shot  a 
soldier  this  morning." 

"Shot  a  soldier!  Why,  is  he  British  in  his 
affiliations?" 

"No,  his  family  sympathize  with  the  Colonies; 


1 88  VALLEY  FORGE 

but  the  soldiers  have  been  very  troublesome  over  at 
his  home,  especially  in  milking  the  cows,  and  to-day 
Dewalt  shot  one,  who  was  caught  at  the  job." 

"What  will  be  done  with  him?  Surely  it  will 
go  hard  with  him !" 

"There  is  very  little  chance  for  him  unless  his 
story  be  believed.  When  the  soldiers  got  so  trouble- 
some he  went  to  see  General  Wayne  over  at 
Walker's,  who  said,  "Why  don't  you  shoot  the  ras- 
cals? The  next  time  they  bother  you,  give  them  a 
bullet !"  To-day  Dewalt  saw  a  man  milking  theirfine 
old  Brindle,  and  he  leveled  his  musket  at  him  and 
killed  him.  He  thought,  when  he  fired,  that  it  was  a 
strange  soldier,  but  he  found  that  it  was  the  very 
sentinel  himself.  This  man,  too,  it  seems,  slyly 
helped  himself  to  anything  he  could  get  to  eat,  and 
while  Dewalt's  father  was  very  sick,  and  Dewalt 
waiting  on  him,  the  fellow  thought  he  would  take 
advantage  of  their  absence  to  refresh  himself,  and 
then  this  dreadful  thing  happened.  If  Wayne 
remembers  that  he  told  him  to  shoot  it  may  turn 
out  all  right,1  but  it  must  shock  him  very  much, 
anyway." 

Ethel  had  not  yet  visited  the  Potts  house.  One 
day,  when  it  became  feasible  to  take  a  short  trip 
about  the  country,  Havard  took  her  on  the  pillion 
of  his  saddle,  and  they  rode  up  to  the  pleasant  stone 
mansion  in  which  the  general  of  the  American 
armies  found  shelter  during  the  dreary  winter  of 
1777-78.  With  innate  delicacy  they  refrained  from 
any  undue  exhibition  of  curiosity,  and  yet  Ethel 

1  He  was  exonerated,  but  with  a  heavy  fine. 


FORTIFIED  FAVOR  189 

took  care  to  secure  as  good  a  view  of  the  premises 
as  a  hasty  glance  could  encompass.  But  an 
unlooked-for  incident  occurred. 

Pacing  up  and  down  before  the  front  door  was  a 
sentinel,  whose  face  indicated  that  hunger  and  cold 
were  preying  upon  him.  Evidently  the  commander- 
in-chief  had  noticed  his  pitiful  pallor,  for  the  door 
opened  and  he  approached  the  soldier,  who,  recog- 
nizing the  person,  halted  and  saluted. 

"My  man,"  said  a  full,  mature,  and  sympathetic 
voice,  that  clearly  reached  the  ears  of  both  Havard 
and  Ethel,  "you  look  very  cold  and  uncomfortable; 
have  you  had  your  breakfast?" 

"No,  sir,  your  excellency,"  responded  the  sentinel, 
very  much  embarrassed,  and  scarcely  knowing  what 
to  say;  "no,  sir,  General — that  is,  not  since  yester- 
day morning." 

"My  poor  fellow,  this  is  too  bad — too  bad 
entirely,"  groaned  the  kind-hearted  chieftain ;  then, 
smiling  he  continued :  "You  must  do  me  the  honor 
to  breakfast  at  my  table.  I  have  no  doubt  that  there 
is  something  that  the  cook  can  furnish  you,  although 
I  could  wish  to  offer  my  brave  men  much  better 
fare." 

The  bewildered  soldier  protested  that  he  would 
be  overwhelmed  with  such  attention,  and  that  he 
could  not  think  of  intruding  in  the  house;  but  the 
general  insisted,  and  when  the  man,  driven  to  his 
last  recourse,  explained  that  he  must  not  leave  his 
post  without  a  representative,  the  great  leader  of 
the  Continental  armies  stepped  into  the  house,  put 
on  his  army  cape  and  chapeau,  and  upon  emerging 


190  VALLEY  FORGE 

relieved  the  sentinel  of  his  gun,  and,  bidding  him 
warm  himself  thoroughly  before  coming  back  from 
his  breakfast,  began  to  walk  back  and  forth  with  a 
military  bearing  and  precision  that  would  have  won 
applause  from  a  martinet. 

The  unwonted  sight  profoundly  touched  Havard 
and  brought  tears  to  the  eyes  of  his  wife.  They  were 
lingering  near,  feeling  awkward,  and  not  knowing 
whether  to  precipitately  retire  or  utter  some  word  of 
respect.  The  general  must  have  divined  their  state 
of  mind,  for,  raising  his  chapeau,  he  saluted  the 
young  lady  gravely,  and  then  most  engagingly  bade 
her  and  her  companion  "Good  morning."  The  ice 
being  broken,  Havard  came  forward  and  begged  the 
favor  of  introducing  himself  and  his  wife  to  the 
general.  As  he  had  mentioned  his  name,  the  latter 
said: 

"You  forget,  Mr.  Brown,  that  the  lady  is  under 
all  circumstances  the  person  to  whom  the  greater 
respect  is  to  be  shown,  and  that  gentlemen,  when 
privileged,  are  to  be  introduced  to  her.  I  shall  be 
highly  favored  if  you  will  present  me  to  Mrs. 
Brown." 

The  simple-hearted  farmer  was  so  completely 
embarrassed  that  he  could  only  stammer  some  feeble 
words  of  introduction;  but  Washington  politely 
ignored  his  helpless  blundering,  and  entered  with 
freedom  upon  his  usual  charming  vein  when  in  con- 
versation with  the  fair  sex.  Whether  he  saw  in 
Ethel  some  faint  reflection  of  the  "lowland  beauty" 
whom  he  had  admired  in  his  youthful  days  we  can- 
not tell,  but  his  address  was  pleasing.  To  Havard's 


FORTIFIED  FAVOR  191 

astonishment  he  discovered  that  his  name  was  not 
unknown  to  the  general,  who  distinctly  spoke  in 
appreciation  of  the  service  he  had  rendered  in 
securing  valuable  information  in  the  camp  of 
Knyphausen,  and  in  the  removal  of  the  stores ;  which 
led  him  to  believe  that  the  general-in-chief  knew 
much  more  about  the  minor  operations  of  the  army 
than  he  could  have  supposed  possible. 

Presently,  warmed  and  filled  after  the  scriptural 
fashion,  the  sentinel  reappeared,  gratitude  swim- 
ming in  his  eyes,  and  a  ruddier  glow  tingeing 
his  cheeks  than  he  had  displayed  for  several  weeks. 
He  seemed  too  affected  to  utter  his  thanks,  but 
Washington  anticipated  his  expressions  and  turned 
the  tide  of  feeling  by  humorously  bestowing  upon 
him  his  weapon  of  war. 

Then,  turning  to  his  new  acquaintances,  the 
general  remarked  that  he  would  be  pleased  to  have 
them  call  upon  Mrs.  Washington  when  she  came 
to  share  the  comforts  of  his  winter  home;  and 
though  he  smiled  at  the  allusion  it  was  not  cynically, 
for  his  appreciation  of  the  provision  made  by  the 
Pottses  was  sincere.  Learning,  in  response  to  his 
inquiries,  that  they  would  be  glad  to  take  a  little 
tour  of  inspection  down  the  river  road,  he  begged 
to  be  excused  for  a  moment,  and  very  shortly 
reappeared  bearing  a  pass.  Then,  again  raising  his 
military  hat,  he  bade  them  adieu. 

As  there  was  plenty  of  time  at  their  disposal  for 
such  a  trip,  the  pair  rode  slowly  up  the  hill,  and, 
after  passing  the  turn  at  the  Gulph  road,  saw  on 
the  right  the  troops  of  Mclntosh's  Georgia  brigade. 


192  VALLEY  FORGE 

Down  the  Gulph  road  could  be  discerned  Conway's 
Pennsylvanians,  while  over  to  the  left,  close  to  the 
river,  was  Washington's  body-guard. 

Farther  down  the  road,  on  the  brow  of  the  hill, 
was  stretched  the  inner  line  of  intrenchments ;  the 
"Star  Redoubt,"  or  "Fort  Platt,"  stood  exactly  in 
the  highway,  and  beyond  it  to  the  right  was  a  sub- 
stantial redoubt  known  as  "Fort  Huntingdon."  To 
the  left  lay  Sullivan,  and  preparations  were  already 
making  under  that  general's  supervision  for  a 
bridge  across  the  Schuylkill.  After  crossing  the 
military  street  that  led  down  to  the  river,  Varnum's 
Rhode  Islanders  were  encountered,  on  the  right. 
A  row  of  huts  for  officers  was  next  seen  on  the  left, 
and  from  these  high  grounds  the  general  arrange- 
ment of  the  camp  ground  could  easily  be  distin- 
guished— the  only  obstacle  in  any  case  being  the 
thick  growth  of  trees. 

Altogether,  even  to  a  civilian's  eye,  the  ground 
had  been  well  selected  to  protect  an  army  from 
attack.  The  supine  Howe  was  not  likely  to  bestir 
himself  to  assault  such  hills  of  forest  and  stone ;  but 
the  grip  of  winter  was  upon  the  devoted  army,  and 
there  were  already  entertained  serious  questions  of  a 
successful  combat  with  the  bleak  winds,  the  depleted 
larder,  and  the  lack  of  clothing  and  shoes. 

The  ice-locked  river,  covered  with  snow,  lay  like 
a  winding  sheet  in  the  soft  white  landscape,  its 
beautiful  curves  refining  the  scenery  of  the  deep 
hills  that  bordered  it.  Hillocks  here  and  there, 
knolls  and  knobs,  and  little  vales,  diversified  the 
view,  and  over  all  was  spread  the  ermine  robe  of  a 


FORTIFIED  FAVOR  193 

princess.  The  effect  of  the  sunshine  was  fascinating, 
and  every  tree  and  bush  seemed  arrayed  in  a  sort 
of  Christmas  holiday  attire.  And  yet  the  tenantry 
of  the  hills  by  armed  men,  who  had  sprung  up  as 
if  by  magic,  like  the  host  from  the  dragon's  teeth 
sown  by  Cadmus,  imparted  to  it  all  a  novel  appear- 
ance that  completely  transformed  the  rural  neigh- 
borhood. 

While  still  traveling  eastward  the  pair  met  a 
guard  who  was  a  resident  of  the  Valley  and  an 
acquaintance,  who  informed  Havard  that  General 
Varnum's  headquarters  were  at  David  Stephens's, 
General  Huntingdon's  at  Maurice  Stephens's,  and 
General  Muhlenberg's  at  Moore's,  beyond  the 
redoubt  known  as  "Moore's  Fort" ;  while  the  com- 
missary-general occupied  a  house  on  Mordecai 
Moore's  farm,  somewhat  in  front  of  "Fort  Folly" — 
a  redoubt  at  the  east  end  of  the  outer  line  of  intrench- 
ments. 

It  was  a  fruitful  and  invigorating  ride,  and  as 
Havard  turned  his  horse's  head  homeward  he  felt 
that  his  scope  of  military  knowledge  was  widened. 
His  return  was  by  a  shorter  route,  that  took  him 
past  the  artillery  park,  where  Ethel  received  the 
salute  of  General  Knox,  who  was  inspecting  the 
arrangement  of  the  guns.  He  also  noted  the  strong 
commanding  position  of  "Fort  Washington,"  and 
the  almost  impregnable  line  far  above,  where  no 
phalanx  would  be  apt  to  venture  in  the  teeth  of  can- 
non and  a  well-directed  musketry  fire. 


CHAPTER   XVII 
THE  HUMDRUM  OF  HONOR 

CHRISTMAS  DAY,  1777,  possessed  few  externals 
with  which  to  cheer  the  hearts  of  the  men  of  Valley 
Forge.  The  wretched  condition  of  the  commissary, 
the  dearth  of  clothing  suited  to  the  rigor  of  the  sea- 
son, together  with  the  dreary  mental  atmosphere,  put 
to  the  severest  test  the  faithful  followers  of  the  star 
of  liberty — now,  alas !  of  such  faint  magnitude.  And 
yet  hogsheads  of  shoes,  socks,  and  warm  garments 
were  spoiling  in  various  localities  for  lack  of  teams, 
or  money  to  provide  transportation. 

Upon  the  commander-in-chief  fell  even  a  deeper 
shadow  than  that  which  obscured  the  cold  huts  of 
the  common  soldiers.  Their  faith  in  their  general 
was  still  unshaken,  although  their  miseries  were 
great.  But  upon  him  rested  the  accumulated 
burdens  of  the  campaign,  and  in  addition  the  bitter- 
ness of  the  knowledge  of  a  shameful  conspiracy. 
The  "Conway  Cabal"  was  tugging  away  at  his 
great  heart  like  a  cancer;  yet,  notwithstanding  its 
attempt  upon  his  reputation  and  position,  he  stood 
firm  in  the  performance  of  his  duty  to  his  bleeding 
country. 

Although  he  was  well  aware  that  Gates's  victory  at 
Saratoga  would  strengthen  the  hands  of  the  abettors 
of  the  mischievous  scheme  to  supplant  him  in  rank, 

194 


THE  HUMDRUM  OF  HONOR  195 

his  manner  upon  learning  the  glorious  tidings  was 
described  by  Colonel  Timothy  Pickering  as  "ecstat- 
ic." The  quivering  of  his  lips,  the  failure  of  his 
utterance,  the  clasping  of  his  hands,  and  his  upward 
gaze  indicated  his  powerful  feeling  of  joy  at  the 
moment,  and  exhibited  the  patriot  in  all  his  moral 
grandeur. 

But  the  shadows  had  deepened,  and  in  the  gigan- 
tic struggle  with  fate  Washington's  soul  was  har- 
rowed with  anxiety.  He  might  have  relieved  him- 
self of  much  of  his  load  by  resigning  his  military 
position,  but  he  knew  that  the  peril  of  his  country 
would  only  be  increased  thereby.  And  in  the  full 
knowledge  of  the  contemptuous  words  that  were 
spoken  and  the  scornful  letters  that  were  written 
about  him  he  bore  and  forbore  in  a  fashion  that 
constitutes  one  of  the  brightest  gems  in  the  crown 
awarded  him  by  posterity. 

Havard  Brown  called  one  day  at  Isaac  Potts's 
to  borrow  a  crowbar,  and  was  obliged  to  wait  for 
the  householder's  appearance.  When  he  came  in 
he  appeared  greatly  agitated,  and  for  a  few  moments 
could  scarcely  speak.  But,  controlling  his  emotions 
with  some  effort,  he  responded  to  the  anxious 
inquiries  of  his  wife: 

"Thee  knows  I  went  up  the  creek  to  get  some 
wood  piled  on  the  hill  across  from  the  forge.  Thee 
knows,  too,  that  the  rotten  oak  fell  across  the  creek 
last  week.  I  thought  I  would  go  around  that  way 
and  see  about  cutting  it  up  for  firewood,  but  when 
I  turned  aside  into  the  grove  by  the  stream  I  was 
startled  by  a  voice  speaking  in  a  different  way  from 


196  VALLEY  FORGE 

that  used  by  people  in  conversing.  I  could  not  tell 
the  words,  and,  wondering  what  it  meant,  I  went 
farther  in  its  direction  until  I  heard  someone  say, 
'It  is  by  Thy  strength  alone  that  this  great  work  can 
be  wrought,  and  the  liberty  of  Thy  people  brought 
to  pass.  Thou  knowest  that  I  am  unable  to  lead 
them  out  of  bondage  into  happiness  and  peace,  and 
that  enemies  are  risen  up  against  me  such  as  breathe 
out  cruelty.'  I  went  still  farther  toward  the  spot 
whence  the  voice  appeared  to  proceed,  and  soon  I 
observed,  deep  in  the  woods,  the  kneeling  form  of 
our  guest.  I  could  see  that  he  was  in  tears,  and  that 
he  shook  as  if  his  burden  were  too  great  to  be  borne. 
His  voice  trembled,  and  indeed  I  thought  he  would 
be  overcome." 

The  good  Mrs.  Potts  caught  the  contagion  of  her 
husband's  emotion.  Her  pious  soul  a  few  years 
earlier  had  been  made  to  rejoice  at  her  husband's 
awakening  interest  in  religion.  He  had  gone  with 
a  funeral  party  to  bury  one  of  his  slaves,  and  while 
all  were  collected  around  the  grave  he  was  strangely 
moved  of  the  Spirit  to  utter  warning  words  to  the 
little  group.  This  was  all  the  more  remarkable 
because  until  that  time,  although  much  esteemed 
for  his  kind,  social  qualities,  he  had  been  reticent 
upon  spiritual  matters. 

Isaac  Potts  had  not  yet  completed  his  remark. 
Heretofore  he  had  been  strenuously  opposed  to  the 
contention  for  independence,  and  especially  to  its 
martial  features;  but  now,  while  still  deprecating 
armed  resistance  to  the  mother  country,  he  had  been 
convinced  by  the  pious  fervor  of  the  commander-in- 


THE  HUMDRUM  OF  HONOR  197 

chief  that  his  cause  was  righteous;  and  he  was  led 
to  say,  "I  am  now  firmly  persuaded  that  George 
Washington  is  a  good  and  great  man,  and  that  the 
interest  he  represents  is  just.  I  cannot  doubt  that 
he  will  prevail  against  his  enemies,  and  that  heaven 
will  answer  his  prayer,  and  bless  this  distracted  land 
with  liberty  and  peace." 

It  was  reserved  for  this  young  man — for  he  was 
now  only  twenty-seven  years  old — to  speak  upon  the 
character  of  Washington  in  the  Friends'  meeting 
at  Philadelphia,  when  the  news  was  received  that 
that  preeminent  patriot  had  passed  away. 

As  the  winter  grew  an  unwelcome  subject 
attracted  the  attention  of  the  young  bridegroom. 
It  lay,  originally,  the  merest  penumbra  upon  his 
thoughts;  yet,  slight  though  it  was,  it  refused  to 
remove,  and  remained  an  intangible  yet  realistic 
dream  or  illusion.  Exceedingly  vague  in  the  begin- 
ning, it  became  intensified,  if  slowly,  yet  surely,  and 
though  sometimes  lessening — indeed,  often  almost 
vanishing — nevertheless  gathering  substance  and 
body,  until  it  became  positively  painful  to  entertain. 

The  original  hesitancy  attending  Havard's  court- 
ship, and  the  uneasiness  associated  with  his  thought 
of  Frances  Jones,  have  already  been  noticed.  It  was 
honor  rather  than  love  that  produced  this  vacillation 
—at  least  Havard  imagined  so.  The  obtruding 
unpleasantness  at  that  time  ensued  from  the  fancied 
twinges  of  conscience  at  permitting  Frances  to  cher- 
ish the  view  that  his  affection  for  her  was  more 
than  that  of  mere  friendship,  and  that  honor 
required  an  offer  of  himself  to  her.  But  he  had 


198  VALLEY  FORGE 

succeeded,  at  least  for  a  season,  in  satisfying  the 
arguments  advanced  by  his  troublesome  monitor, 
and  the  flattering  result  of  his  siege  of  Ethel's 
heart  had  dimmed  his  vision  to  the  obtruding 
element. 

The  serious  feature  in  the  present  case  was  Ha- 
vard's  growing  suspicion  that  he  had  been  mistaken 
in  the  gauge  of  his  own  feelings.  Struggle  against 
it  though  he  might,  he  came  again  and  again  to  the 
verge  of  the  disagreeable  conviction.  Nor  could  he 
explain  it  to  himself.  It  humiliated  him  to  impeach 
himself  of  criticising  his  wife.  She  retained  prob- 
ably as  much  personal  charm  in  his  eyes  as  ever, 
nevertheless  there  was  somewhere  a  lack,  which, 
while  it  might  not  be  exactly  defined,  constituted  a 
genuine  deprivation. 

Perhaps  no  word  could  better  express  the  state 
of  mind  thus  developing  in  the  young  groom  than 
the  simple  but  significant  one  of  "disappointment!" 

It  was  not  a  sudden  revelation,  but  the  slow 
growth  of  an  impression  so  delicate  as  to  be  almost 
impalpable.  And  it  was  only  after  much  ebb  and 
flow  of  thought  and  feeling,  the  waves  slightly  but 
steadily  encroaching  higher  upon  the  beach,  that 
Havard  became  unable  to  shake  it  off.  He  was 
puzzled  to  understand  himself,  and  began  a  merci- 
less inquisition  of  motive,  the  result  of  which  was 
generally  uncomplimentary  to  himself;  but  still  the 
strong  though  indefinable  feeling  developed  stead- 
ily toward  maturity. 

There  was  one  circumstance  for  which  he  now 
blamed  himself  unmistakably — the  haste  with  which 


THE  HUMDRUM  OF  HONOR  199 

he  had  brought  the  affair  of  the  heart  to  a  con- 
clusion. He  could  now  perceive,  and  rightly  value, 
the  advantage  of  an  extended  season  of  reflection 
before  making  a  declaration  of  love ;  and  his  cheeks 
burned  at  the  recollection  that  Ethel  had  hesitated 
and  recommended  a  longer  delay.  He  was  forced 
to  confess  to  himself  that  she  was  really  the  wiser 
of  the  two,  and  that  time  is  imperatively  necessary 
to  permit  us  to  become  acquainted  with  ourselves, 
to  say  nothing  of  others. 

By  one  of  those  curious  intuitions  which  are  quite 
unaccountable,  Havard  suspected  that  his  mother 
was  privy  to  his  thoughts.  He  did  not  know  how, 
but  he  would  have  needed  to  be  an  adept  in  disguise 
to  prevent  his  mobile  face  from  proclaiming  his 
secrets.  He  was  not  aware  that  the  deepening 
penumbra  had  settled  on  his  countenance.  As  for 
Ethel,  she  found  in  the  society  of  Mrs.  Knox,  who 
had  come  to  share  camp  life  with  her  husband,  so 
much  solace  for  her  deprivation  of  city  experience 
that  her  vision  was  dulled  to  anything  strange  in 
the  manner  of  her  husband. 

Ethel  had  intelligently  anticipated  something  like 
monotony  in  the  rural  surroundings  that  offered  in 
connection  with  her  approaching  wedding;  but  she 
hoped  that  Havard  could  be  aroused  to  more  interest 
in  society,  and  that  certain  compensating  pleasures 
would  come  to  her  in  exchange  for  the  loss  of 
prized  conveniences — especially  in  the  recreations 
of  the  open  summer  season.  While,  however,  the 
presence  of  the  army  imposed  some  restrictions, 
Ethel's  inclinations  found  a  larger  gratification  in 


2OO  VALLEY  FORGE 

the  social  privileges  growing  out  of  the  establish- 
ment of  various  headquarters  in  the  houses  nearby. 

The  interchange  of  visits  upon  the  part  of  the 
general  officers  and  their  staffs  gradually  made  Ethel 
acquainted  with  quite  a  number  of  the  gentlemen 
and  their  wives,  and  also  with  the  ladies  in  the 
families  of  those  who  entertained  them.  Two 
homes  within  comparatively  close  reach  furnished 
unusual  attractions.  The  first  was  that  of  the  Rev. 
William  Currie,  a  half  mile  or  more  across  the 
creek,  and  lying  on  the  hillside. 

The  learned  and  venerable  rector,  who  was  of 
Scottish  birth  and  a  graduate  of  the  University  of 
Glasgow,  was  highly  esteemed  for  his  fidelity  to 
clerical  duty.  But  for  a  year  and  a  half  he  had 
ceased  to  sustain  a  direct  pastoral  relation  to  the 
people  at  Radnor,  Saint  Peter's  and  Saint  James's, 
because  of  his  unwillingness  to  omit  prayers  for  the 
king,  upon  which  his  congregation  insisted.  He 
already  had  attained  fourscore  years,  but  was  des- 
tined to  complete  another  decade  of  service.  He 
died  aged  ninety-three  years. 

There  was  something  fascinating  about  the  house 
itself,  with  its  great  fireplaces  and  immense  chim- 
neys, the  two  pairs  of  stairs — one  in  each  end — for 
the  accommodation  of  two  families,  the  odd  style 
of  window  in  the  western  gable,  and  the  quaint  little 
panes  of  glass.  The  stout  oak  floors  also  witnessed 
to  the  substantialness  of  the  dwelling,  while  the 
spring-house  in  the  rear,  the  bakehouse,  and  the 
barn  in  front  strengthened  the  impression  of  con- 
venience and  plenty. 


THE  HUMDRUM  OF  HONOR  201 

The  hospitalities  of  the  house  were  dispensed  by 
the  rector's  granddaughter,  Margaret  Currie 
Walker,  who,  being  the  grandmece  of  two  signers 
of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  was,  as  might 
have  been  expected,  an  ardent  well-wisher  of  the 
American  cause.  But  she  still  maintained  her  love 
for  the  ancient  service  of  the  Church  of  England, 
and  related  with  much  piquancy  how  her  husband, 
Thomas  Walker,  was  disciplined  by  the  Society  of 
Friends  for  marrying  her. 

Ethel  became  sincerely  attached  to  Mrs.  Walker  ; 
and  the  ex-rector's  fund  of  conversation  was 
instructive  and  entertaining.  But  his  spirit  was 
saddened  by  the  illness  and  death,  in  February,  of 
his  second  wife,  whom  he  laid  at  rest  in  the  church- 
yard of  Saint  David's. 

Lord  Stirling  had  taken  up  his  quarters  here,  and 
this  nobleman's  wife,  a  daughter  of  Philip  Living- 
ston, of  New  York,  added  materially  to  the  social 
circle.  The  patriotism  of  the  general  was  marked, 
and  he  had  resigned  his  claims  to  the  peerage  to 
serve  his  country.  His  record  in  Shirley's  campaigns 
in  the  French  and  Indian  war  was  shining,  and  his 
exploits  in  the  revolt  against  the  mother  country 
extended  his  reputation.  Notwithstanding  the  dif- 
ference in  their  political  views,  the  man  of  war  and 
the  man  of  peace  enjoyed  their  lengthy  chats. 

The  other  home  to  which  we  have  referred  was 
situated  on  the  same  side  of  the  creek  with  that  of 
Havard  Brown,  and  belonged  to  his  second  cousin, 
Samuel  Havard.  A  winding  road  led  up  to  the 
house,  which  stood  on  a  knoll  overlooking  the  creek. 


202  VALLEY  FORGE 

Chimney  and  fireplace  resembled  those  of  the  Currie 
house.  To  look  through  its  rear  windows  upon  the 
pretty  stream  flowing  through  the  meadow  was 
much  enjoyed  by  Ethel. 

Two  adjoining  rooms  on  the  first  floor  were 
monopolized  by  that  youthful  general,  the  Marquis 
de  Lafayette,  whom  Cornwallis  contemptuously 
styled  "the  boy."  His  staff  shared  with  him  the 
shelter  of  the  stout  walls  against  the  boreal  blasts 
of  the  dispiriting  winter.  But  the  general  was  not  a 
constant  resident  of  the  house.  He  had  received 
some  lay  surgical  treatment  at  Abijah  Stephens's, 
and  afterward  he  was  summoned  a  way  upon  a  manu- 
factured mission  by  the  designing  plotters  of  the 
"Cabal,"  who  hoped  to  use  him  for  their  own  base 
ends  by  weaning  him  from  Washington.  Here, 
too,  congregated  the  foreigners  who  served  in  the 
army;  the  attraction  naturally  arising  from  greater 
familiarity  of  language  being  emphasized  by  the 
unpleasant  circumstance  that  some  of  the  native 
officers  regarded  them  with  coldness  and  suspicion. 
In  due  season  General  Duportail,  Count  Pulaski,  and 
the  Barons  De  Kalb  and  Steuben  paid  their  respects 
in  this  same  home  to  the  young  Marquis. 

To  Havard  Brown's  inexperienced  eye  the  state 
of  discipline  in  the  army  was  not  only  depressing 
but  alarming.  Besides,  rust  covered  the  arms  of 
the  soldiers,  fully  half  of  the  muskets  being  without 
bayonets,  and  many  of  them  could  not  have  been 
discharged.  All  the  accouterments  were  in  shocking 
condition,  and  under  other  circumstances  the  appear- 
ance of  the  troops  would  have  excited  ridicule. 


THE  HUMDRUM  OF  HONOR  203 

Havarcl  was  first  made  aware  of  the  arrival  of 
Baron  Steuben,  and  of  his  rank,  by  seeing  him  fac- 
ing the  troops  in  the  drill,  which  proceeded  from 
early  morning  until  night,  without  intermission,  dur- 
ing all  the  weeks  succeeding  his  coming.  It  was  up 
on  the  high,  level  ground  beyond  the  Star  Redoubt, 
and  near  the  officers'  huts. 

It  was  the  peculiar  language  of  the  inspector- 
general — for  such  was  Steuben's  appointment — that 
drew  Havard's  attention  to  the  drill.  Looking  up, 
he  noticed  the  motley  ranks  standing  at  "attention." 
Uniforms  they  had  none — indeed,  it  might  be  said 
that  clothing  some  of  them  had  none,  for  they  were 
almost  literally  naked.  A  few  of  the  officers  had 
coats,  in  which  all  colors  were  represented.  Even 
on  grand  parade  officers  were  glad  to  have  a  rude 
gown  constructed  of  ancient  blankets  or  bed  covers. 

The  poor  privates  were  variously  supplied  with 
firearms;  some  had  muskets,  some  shotguns,  some 
rifles,  and  some  carbines.  Many  had  tin  boxes  in 
place  of  the  usual  pouches,  and  some  had  powder 
horns. 

The  baron,  who  was  not  yet  fifty,  was  full  of 
energy,  and  proved  extremely  efficient.  But  this 
Prussian  drillmaster  was  irascible,  and  the  awk- 
ward attempts  of  the  soldiers  to  obey  his  com- 
mands excited  him  to  such  a  degree  that  he  could 
hardly  control  his  rage.  It  was  very  difficult  to 
understand  his  orders,  for  his  knowledge  of  English 
was  almost  nil;  yet  he  seemed  to  expect  that  his 
wishes  would  be  intuitively  comprehended.  Since 
they  were  not,  his  disappointment  found  vent  in 


2O4  VALLEY  FORGE 

expletives  of  extraordinary  range  and  vehemence, 
and  this  it  was  that  startled  Havard.  The  men  were 
bewildered  by  his  anger ;  and  their  stupidity,  as  the 
baron  termed  it,  waxed  greater  rather  than  less,  until 
the  indignant  man,  in  sheer  inability  to  swear  any 
more,  begged  one  of  his  staff  to  procure  someone 
who  could  employ  the  code  of  cursing  more 
effectually ! 

But  this  was  the  greatest  of  his  infirmities.  His 
work  soon  told  in  the  discipline  of  the  ragged  army. 
Rising  before  daylight,  making  a  careful  toilet, 
and  refreshing  himself  with  a  single  cup  of  coffee, 
it  was  his  habit  to  mount  his  horse  before  sunrise, 
when  he  expected  to  meet  his  men.  And  in  every 
battle  that  followed  these  long  weeks  of  tiresome 
repetition  of  the  manual  of  arms,  never  again  did 
his  disciples  of  the  drill  lose  a  battle  in  which  their 
numbers  were  equal  to  those  of  the  enemy ! 

Havard  was  interested  at  the  same  time  in  the 
building  of  the  bridge  across  the  Schuylkill. 
Sullivan's  men  lay  between  Fatland  Ford  and  Isaac 
Potts's,  and  his  New  Englanders  were  called  upon 
to  span  the  river.  Piers  were  placed  in  the  stream 
at  regular  intervals;  and  on  these  were  stretched 
pieces  of  timber  that  supported  the  slab  flooring. 
Wooden  pins  fastened  the  whole.  When  the  bridge 
was  finished,  in  the  spring,  a  number  of  the  resi- 
dents were  invited  to  walk  over  it  with  the 
officers  who  examined  it.  Havard  heard  David 
Stephens  telling  General  Sullivan  that  the  first 
freshet  would  carry  it  away,  and,  sure  enough,  not- 
withstanding the  general's  indignant  denial  of  the 


THE  HUMDRUM  OF  HONOR  205 

possibility  of  such  a  circumstance,  the  breaking  up 
of  the  ice  in  the  river  in  the  early  spring  of  1779 
resulted  in  the  sweeping  off  of  all  the  material  rest- 
ing on  the  top  of  the  piers. 

The  particular  social  event  of  the  season  was  the 
arrival,  early  in  February,  of  Mrs.  Washington. 
Cheerfully  she  wrote  to  her  friends  of  the  discom- 
forts of  army  life,  and  naively  acknowledged  her 
satisfaction  with  the  log  addition  to  the  house,  built 
by  the  general's  orders,  to  provide  a  "dining  room." 
It  was  a  great  day  at  the  Browns'  when  she  accom- 
panied her  husband  to  call  upon  Mrs.  Knox,  for 
they  too,  were  included  in  the  simple  sociability  of 
the  occasion. 

Upon  several  Sabbaths  the  distinguished  couple 
rode  over  to  Saint  David's,  and  sat  in  the  little  room 
afterward  to  be  made  famous  by  the  pen  of  Long- 
fellow. The  cheery  mistress  of  Mount  Vernon 
insisted  upon  climbing  the  exterior  staircase,  to  see 
the  arrangement  of  the  gallery,  which  could  not  be 
entered  from  the  inside  of  the  building. 

As  if  there  were  not  enough  variety  in  the  novel 
state  of  affairs  about  the  burnt  forge,  Havard 
experienced  a  curious  rencontre  one  dark  evening, 
while  on  his  way  to  the  headquarters  of  Dr. 
Jonathan  Potts,  the  medical  director  of  the  army. 
Mrs.  Knox  had  suffered  during  the  day  with  severe 
pains  in  her  head,  but  felt  unwilling  to  disturb  the 
physician,  whose  labors  were  known  to  be  exacting. 
But  when  bedtime  was  near  her  spasms  of  pain 
increased  to  such  an  extent  that  she  consented  to 
have  the  doctor  summoned.  It  was  the  general's 


206  VALLEY  FORGE 

purpose  to  dispatch  an  aid,  but  Havard's  greater 
familiarity  with  the  roads  on  so  obscure  a  night 
caused  his  ready  proffer  to  be  accepted;  and  he  at 
once  set  out  for  the  chief  hospital,  where  the  doctor 
was  believed  to  be. 

A  singular  presentiment  took  possession  of  him 
as  he  prepared  to  leave  the  house.  His  greatcoat 
hung  in  the  kitchen,  and,  as  he  put  it  on,  and  faced 
the  window  opening  upon  the  yard,  he  recollected 
how  he  had  once  seen  through  it  the  face  of  Will 
Tryon.  So  powerful  was  the  impression  made  at 
that  time,  and  so  keenly  did  he  remember  it,  that  he 
now  seemed  to  see  with  the  utmost  clearness, 
through  the  very  same  pane,  the  face  of  that  dis- 
turber of  the  peace. 

He  also  fancied,  as  he  halted  a  moment  by  the 
horse  block,  and  looked  up  at  the  threatening  sky, 
that  he  heard  the  tramping  of  feet  in  the  dry  leaves 
which  were  gathered  in  a  pile  in  the  barnyard,  to  be 
used  as  bedding  for  the  cattle.  This,  too,  however, 
was  attributed  to  the  influence  of  the  night  and  of 
recollections. 

Havard  found  the  doctor,  after  successfully  pass- 
ing the  guards,  and  delivered  the  message  of  the 
general's  wife.  The  worthy  Galen,  a  brother  of  the 
owner  of  the  general  headquarters,  responded  at 
once  to  the  call,  and  accompanied  the  young  man 
home. 

On  the  way  Dr.  Potts  startled  Havard  with  the 
information  that  of  the  eleven  thousand  troops  in 
the  encampment  few  more  than  five  thousand  were 
fit  for  duty,  and  that  if  Howe  had  a  tithe  of  Wash- 


THE  HUMDRUM  OF  HONOR  207 

ington's  courage  and  persistence  the  issue  of  an 
attack  could  scarcely  be  doubtful.  The  communi- 
cation was  made  in  a  whisper. 

In  the  same  low  tone  he  continued:  "We  have 
hundreds  sick  of  smallpox  at  this  moment  in  the 
eleven  hospitals  we  are  using;  nothing  can  be  done 
to  prevent  the  spread  of  this  loathsome  disease — 
but  perhaps" — and  the  doctor  chuckled  with  the 
careless  ease  of  a  man  who  is  familiar  with  dangers 
— "Howe  would  not  like  to  tackle  us." 

"Who  comes  there?"  rang  out  the  call  from  a 
sentinel,  who  could  not  have  seen  or  heard  their 
approach.  Evidently  there  was  someone  else  abroad 
that  dark  and  lowering  night.  Havard  heard  the 
response,  which  he  recognized  as  coming  from 
Colonel  Dewees,  who  had  been  absent  from  the 
vicinity  so  long  as  to  have  excited  his  wonder. 

Pressing  forward,  Havard  revealed  himself  to  the 
colonel,  who  begged  pardon  of  the  doctor  for 
whispering  to  his  friend,  and  then  informed  Havard 
that  he  had  been  engaged  in  secret  service  of  which 
he  might  not  speak  in  general,  but  now  was  looking 
up  matters  relating  to  Will  Tryon.  Havard 
involuntarily  started,  and  told  of  his  strange 
impression  earlier  in  the  evening.  The  colonel  felt 
convinced  that  it  was  not  an  hallucination,  for  he 
had  strong  reason  to  believe  that  Tryon  had  come 
into  the  neighborhood  recently,  by  stealth.  His 
house  had  been  closed  for  some  time,  and  his  where- 
abouts were  unknown,  but  a  straw  or  two  indicated 
his  harboring  in  the  vicinity. 

"By  the  way,  Havard,"  remarked  the  colonel,  "I 


208  VALLEY  FORGE 

guess  you  remember  our  little  talk  about  the  stores 
at  Hammer  Hollow.  I  got  them  off  the  other  day 
so  nicely  that  not  even  Tryon  could  have  smelled  a 
mouse.  Not  a  soul  but  the  picked  men  I  took  with 
me  was  about,  and  nobody  could  guess  where  the 
wagons  were  loaded.  You  wouldn't  have  known 
me,  I'm  sure.  If  ever  we  need  a  secret  place  for 
stores  again  we  can  use  the  quiet  old  Hollow." 

Cautioning  Havard  not  to  mention  his  presence  to 
anyone,  the  colonel  bade  the  two  gentlemen  good- 
night, and  they  proceeded  to  the  house,  where,  after 
an  examination,  the  physician  administered  some 
medicine,  which  in  another  half  hour  brought  relief 
to  his  patient.  Then,  refusing  the  escort  which  Ha- 
vard tendered,  he  returned  to  his  quarters  to  seek  a 
little  rest  ere  the  incessant  duties  of  the  hospital 
again  drew  upon  his  energies. 


CHAPTER    XVIII 
A  HORSE  WORTHY  OF  A  KINGDOM 

As  Mrs.  Knox  was  decidedly  better  in  the  morn- 
ing, Havard  determined  to  ride  over  to  Abijah 
Bartram's,  near  Newtown  Square,  stopping  by  the 
way  at  a  picket  post  commanded  by  Captain  Harry 
Lee,  about  a  mile  south  of  Peggy's  corner,  estab- 
lished in  the  substantial  stone  house  of  John  Scott. 
Soon  Saladin  and  his  master  were  threading  their 
way  thither.  When  within  a  half  mile  of  the  post 
Havard  was  halted  by  a  sentinel  stationed  under  a 
gigantic  oak  at  the  foot  of  a  hill.  But  soon  he  was 
in  the  presence  of  the  captain  of  light  horse. 

The  civilian's  fidelity  to  the  Continental  cause  had 
been  so  well  attested  by  his  service  upon  more  than 
one  critical  occasion  that  Lee  did  not  hesitate  to 
inform  him  of  his  own  latest  military  performances. 
He  had  been  engaged  in  cutting  off  British  foraging 
parties,  and  had  been  quite  successful  in  securing 
army  supplies  that  had  cost  the  redcoats  considerable 
pains  to  gather  together.  This  was  a  serious  disad- 
vantage to  Howe,  and  the  captain  remarked  humor- 
ously that  "he  supposed  the  British  would  be  in 
his  wool  one  of  these  days,"  as  a  checkmate  to  his 
annoying  interference.  His  force  at  present  was 
very  small,  and  he  had  dispatched  the  quartermaster 
and  several  men  to  collect  forage,  which  was  not 

209 


2io  VALLEY  FORGE 

easy  to  procure  in  a  country  that  was  necessarily 
despoiled  by  both  the  contending  armies.  The 
quartermaster's  detachment  had  gone  down  toward 
Newtown,  which  was  believed  to  be  freed  from  the 
impressments  of  Howe.  "But,"  observed  Captain 
Lee,  "you  know,  Mr.  Brown,  we  must  always  be 
upon  the  lookout  for  the  enemy,  who  may  pounce 
upon  us  before  we  are  aware  of  his  nearness." 

Captain  Lee  invited  Havard  to  share  a  soldier's 
fare  with  him,  intimating  that  it  would  not  be 
luxurious,  but  his  visitor  declined  the  hospitality, 
declaring  that  he  must  push  on  toward  Newtown. 
Suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  he  bade  the  young 
officer  good-bye,  and  in  a  few  minutes  had  made  a 
circuit  of  the  knob  to  the  west  of  the  house,  and 
faced  again  to  the  south. 

At  the  "Square"  Havard  naturally  let  his  eye  rest 
upon  the  public  house  known  as  "Pratt's,"  where 
travelers  found  entertainment.  It  had  been  the 
home,  for  several  of  his  childhood  years,  of  a  young 
man  named  Benjamin  West,  who,  it  was  intimated 
in  the  news  received  from  England,  was  gaining 
high  reputation  as  an  artist;  and  there  was  a  cur- 
rent tradition  that  in  that  house  his  mother  found 
him  one  day,  when  but  seven  years  old,  painting  a 
very  tolerable  likeness  of  the  baby  of  the  household, 
with  a  brush  made  from  "Tabby's"  tail. 

Havard  thought  less  about  the  tavern  and  the 
brick  house  diagonally  opposite,  which  had  also  been 
West's  home  for  a  while,  than  about  some  incidents 
in  the  career  of  James  Fitzpatrick,  a  Tory  outlaw, 
suggested  by  the  inn. 


A  HORSE  WORTHY  OF  A  KINGDOM       21  n 

This  native  Chester  County  brigand,  after  enter- 
ing the  Continental  service,  deserted,  but,  being 
apprehended,  reenlisted,  only  however,  to  desert 
again.  For  a  while  he  pursued  his  trade  of  a 
smith,  but  upon  the  advance  of  Howe's  army  acted 
as  a  guide.  Then  he  made  private  war  upon  rich 
Whigs,  and  often  secured  large  sums  of  money, 
which  he  hid  in  various  haunts.  In  a  gloomy  cavern 
at  Castle  Rock,  two  miles  west  of  Newtown,  a  vast 
mass  of  enstatite,  crowning  a  hilltop  in  the  woods, 
"Captain  Fitz"  was  suspected  of  having  a  den, 
wherein  part  of  his  ill-gotten  gains  was  secreted; 
and  there  were  similar  caves  along  the  Brandy- 
wine,  and  in  the  Chester  Valley,  where  he  found 
convenient  refuge  when  the  pursuit  of  sheriffs  and 
constables  became  warm. 

One  of  the  latest  exploits  of  this  disturber  of  the 
public  peace  was  his  appearance  at  the  "Pratt 
House,"  at  the  very  time  of  the  assemblage  of  a 
large  number  of  farmers  with  a  view  to  his  appre- 
hension, and  his  masterly  daunting  of  the  entire 
company  while  he  coolly  drank  at  the  tavern  bar 
and  departed  without  molestation. 

Havard  stopped  for  a  moment  at  the  tavern  cor- 
ner to  exchange  a  few  words  with  the  hostler,  who 
paid  much  attention  to  Saladin.  Havard  noticed 
that  his  glances  restlessly  fell  upon  some  distant 
point,  as  though  he  were  expecting  an  arrival.  It 
was  a  little  difficult  to  get  away  from  the  inquisitive 
fellow,  who  would  have  had  Havard  in  to  drink ;  but 
the  young  man  said,  "Good-day"  politely,  and  passed 
on  to  Abijah  Bartram's. 


212  VALLEY  FORGE 

He  was,  however,  doomed  to  disappointment,  for 
Deborah  Bartram  informed  him  that  her  husband 
was  absent  in  Birmingham,  and  would  not  return 
until  late.  She  invited  him  to  remain,  at  least  to 
dinner,  but  with  appreciative  excuses  Havard 
turned  homeward.  Once  more  he  passed  Pratt's, 
and  again  he  saw  the  hostler  still  strangely  scanning 
the  country.  Not  halting  on  this  occasion,  Havard 
leisurely  ascended  the  long  easy  grade  to  the  north. 
From  this  watershed  he  next  descended  into  a  hol- 
low thickly  wooded,  where  he  found  Lee's  quarter- 
master and  his  squad  of  foragers.  They  lounged 
carelessly  upon  the  gray,  turfy  banks  at  the  side  of 
the  road  while  eating  a  luncheon.  They  were  hospit- 
able enough  to  invite  the  traveler  to  partake  of  their 
fare,  but  Havard  declined,  stopping,  however,  to 
converse  with  them.  Probably  he  lingered  ten  or 
fifteen  minutes  in  their  company,  meanwhile  dis- 
mounting. Then,  springing  on  his  horse,  he 
ascended  to  the  next  hilltop.  Why  he  looked  back 
he  could  not  explain  to  himself;  but  just  when  on 
its  brow  he  turned  and  glanced  at  the  group,  only  to 
discover  an  astounding  transformation.  The  road 
was  literally  full  of  redcoats,  mounted,  and  brandish- 
ing sabers  that  flashed  in  the  sun!  The  surprised 
foragers  had  sprung  to  their  feet,  and  were 
endeavoring  to  gain  their  horses,  but  in  an  instant 
they  were  surrounded  and  captured. 

Havard  trembled  with  excitement,  not  knowing 
what  to  do.  In  another  moment  he  thought  of  the 
post  at  Scott's,  and  recollected  Captain  Lee's  remark 
about  an  attack.  The  dragoons  were  making  with 


A  HORSE  WORTHY  OF  A  KINGDOM       213 

hot  haste  for  the  place  he  occupied.  The  road  fairly 
swarmed  with  them!  It  might  not  do  him  much 
harm  to  meet  them,  perhaps  none;  yet  he  preierred 
their  room  to  their  company.  And  clearly  Lee  was 
in  peril.  He  recollected  how  small  a  force  the 
captain  had,  and  while  no  doubt  he  would  be  on  the 
alert,  yet  disaster  might  overtake  him  if  this  large 
body  were  permitted  to  surprise  him.  A  noble 
resolve  took  possession  of  him,  that  thrilled  him  until 
his  brain  seemed  on  fire.  He  would  carry  the  news 
to  Lee !  But  what  if  he  were  seen  and  pursued  ?  A 
queer  sensation  affected  him,  but  his  soul  swelled 
within  him.  He  looked  down  at  Saladin,  and  lov- 
ingly patted  his  neck,  and  stroked  the  fine  flowing 
mane.  He  knew  more  than  anyone  else  the  powers 
of  his  splendid  horse,  and  was  not  afraid  to  pit  him 
against  the  best-blooded  mount  of  any  of  the  British 
officers.  But  then  they  might  shoot,  and  kill  the 
equine  beauty  he  valued  so  highly.  He  did  not  think 
of  himself  until  Ethel  and  his  mother,  and  their 
dependence  upon  him,  came  to  his  vision. 

Havard  tarried  but  to  observe  that  the  dragoons 
were  coming  up  the  hill  at  full  speed,  a  sufficient 
guard  being  left  for  the  foragers,  and  then,  speak- 
ing to  Saladin  as  if  the  noble  animal  could  compre- 
hend human  speech,  he  started  for  the  post.  But 
he  had  seen  that  a  short,  thickset  man,  probably  as 
young  as  himself,  led  the  advance  with  impetuosity. 

It  was  not  his  purpose  to  rush  down  the  hill 
toward  the  north  unless  his  pursuers  should  follow 
at  breakneck  speed.  But  to  his  dismay  he  observed 
to  his  right,  coming  over  a  crossroad  from  Saint 


214  VALLEY  FORGE 

David's  and  Cabbagetown,  another  company  of  red- 
coats. At  their  head  rode  a  subaltern,  and  at  his 
side  a  civilian,  who  seemed  to  possess  an  air  of 
leadership  superior  to  that  of  the  officer. 

Afterward  Havard  learned  from  a  prisoner  who 
was  one  of  the  participants  the  history  of  the 
maneuver.  The  civilian  was  the  celebrated  "Captain 
Fitz,"  the  youthful  commander  of  the  dragoons,  the 
notorious  Banastre  Tarleton,  once  an  English  law- 
yer, but  now  commencing  his  unenviable  American 
military  career.  Fitzpatrick  and  the  hostler  at 
Pratt's  were  chums,  unknown  to  the  community. 
The  latter  kept  the  bandit  informed  of  all  opportu- 
nities to  plunder,  which  were  disclosed  by  garrulous 
frequenters  of  the  barroom,  and  had  furnished  infor- 
mation of  the  weakness  of  Lee's  force  that  led 
Tarleton  to  the  attack.  He  was  anxiously  awaiting 
the  latter's  appearance  when  Havard  halted  on  his 
way  to  Bartram's,  and  his  personal  cupidity  was 
aroused  at  the  sight  of  Saladin.  It  was  his  object 
to  detain  Havard  until  he  should  be  entrapped,  when 
his  outlaw  chief  would  probably  secure  the  animal. 
It  was  therefore  with  a  definite  object  that  Tarleton 
pressed  up  the  hill,  and  his  subaltern  undertook  to 
cut  off  escape  by  his  flank  movement. 

So  Havard  was  obliged  to  give  Saladin  rein. 
It  was  what  the  faithful  steed  had  been  waiting  for. 
His  intelligence  was  a  byword  among  Havard's 
neighbors,  and  to-day  instinct  taught  him  that  there 
was  something  at  fault.  His  gentle  dark  eyes 
glimpsed  the  strange  chargers  speeding  along  the 
crossroad ;  his  sharp  ears  heard  the  galloping  hoofs 


A  HORSE  WORTHY  OF  A  KINGDOM       215 

behind  him;  his  delicate  nostrils,  expanding  in 
blooded  play,  snuffed  the  strangers  swarming  on 
the  highway.  Havard  was  not  afraid  of  his  pur- 
suers, but  he  was  uneasy  about  the  other  party. 
There  was  no  time  to  estimate  the  relative  distances 
to  be  traversed  to  the  meeting  of  the  roads,  and 
Havard  could  see  that  the  civilian  was  well  mounted. 

Saladin  was  pacing  magnificently.  How  those 
clean  limbs  kept  up  their  marvelous  movement!  It 
might  have  been  supposed  that  the  black  horse  had 
a  soul  like  his  master,  and  that  it  was  thrilled  with 
the  crisal  occasion.  Tarleton  wavered  between  anger 
and  admiration  as  he  saw  the  fleeing  steed  slip 
easily  away  from  him,  despite  all  his  urging  of  a 
courser  of  which  he  was  proud.  His  fiery  oaths 
were  now  of  vexation,  and  anon  of  delight,  as  he 
saw  the  long  streaming  tail  or  caught  a  flutter  of 
the  glossy  mane. 

But  the  subaltern  and  Fitzpatrick  were  edging  up 
to  the  crossroads,  the  latter  on  the  lead.  Would 
Saladin  reach  it  before  them  ?  His  pace  was  already 
a  surprise  to  the  subaltern's  party,  and  Havard  was 
not  sure  afterward  but  that  it  would  have  carried 
him  through  safely ;  but  he  could  not  afford  to  take 
any  risks  with  the  fate  of  the  post  in  his  hands,  so, 
leaning  close  to  the  neck  of  his  dumb  comrade,  he 
whispered  a  certain  word.  Then  did  Saladin  put 
forth  his  fabulous  powers.  Captain  Fitz  and  the 
subaltern  were  using  their  spurs,  but  Havard  dis- 
dained to  touch  his  gallant  horse,  as  though,  having 
never  laid  the  whip  upon  him,  it  would  be  an 
indignity  to  do  so  now. 


216  VALLEY  FORGE 

What  was  that  dark  streak  passing  the  junction, 
that  flight  of  a  great  arrow,  that  whisk  of  the  wind  ? 
The  subaltern  and  his  companion,  considerably 
ahead  of  their  followers,  were  amazed  to  find  them- 
selves minus  their  prey,  and  could  scarcely  credit  the 
fact  that  Havard  had  escaped  them.  But,  baffled  and 
disappointed  as  they  were,  Captain  Fitz  could 
scarcely  restrain  himself  from  throwing  his  hat  in 
the  air  and  hurrahing  for  the  finest  equestrian  effort 
he  had  ever  witnessed. 

But  the  dragoons  hesitated  not,  pressing  on  in 
eager  pursuit,  the  plan  of  action  having  been  com- 
municated to  the  subaltern,  who  merely  glanced  back 
at  Tarleton  for  his  nod  to  go  ahead.  A  well-directed 
shot  might  have  killed  or  maimed  Saladin,  but  it 
would  have  aroused  the  post  now  comparatively  near 
at  hand.  Havard  groaned  at  the  thought  that 
Saladin  might  be  ruined  by  this  ride,  yet  duty — a 
favorite  beacon  with  him — shone  clearly.  Never- 
theless he  gently  checked  the  flying  animal  to  his 
former  steady,  even  pace.  Up  the  next  grade  he 
quickly  flew,  down  again  to  the  hollow  where  a 
brook  crossed  the  road,  up  another  grade,  and  then- 
victory!  victory! — around  the  corner  in  the  shadow 
of  the  big  knoll,  just  a  few  rods  more  to  the  gate 
of  the  stable  yard.  Already  Lee  had  heard  the 
sound  of  hurried  hoof -beats,  and  was  looking  out  of 
a  window;  instantly  he  recognized  the  rider,  and 
understood  Havard's  warning  shout,  "The  dra- 
goons!" Quickly  he  ordered  the  sentry  to  admit 
Havard;  quite  as  rapidly  the  latter  threw  himself 
from  his  horse  and  opened  a  stable  door,  closing  it 


A  HORSE  WORTHY  OF  A  KINGDOM       217 

hysterically  when  Saladin  was  safely  within  it,  and 
drawing  the  heavy  bolt.  Then  he  would  have  sunk 
to  the  floor  of  the  stall  with  the  fatigue  of  excite- 
ment but  for  the  battle  storm  that  almost  immedi- 
ately enveloped  the  premises. 

Lee  had  sharply  commanded  the  barricading  of 
the  doors  and  lower  windows  of  his  impromptu 
fortress,  and  this  was  barely  effected  when  Tarleton 
swept  up  with  his  two  hundred  picked  men  and  cut 
the  sentry  to  pieces.  But  it  was  too  late  to  surprise 
the  garrison. 

At  first  Havard  gave  his  entire  attention  to  his 
horse.  There  seemed  but  a  slim  chance  of  saving 
either  himself  or  it.  But,  whatever  was  to  be  the 
upshot,  he  would  preserve  Saladin  from  taking  cold. 
With  bunches  of  straw  he  rubbed  his  shining  coat, 
which  was  wet  with  perspiration,  until  it  was  dry, 
when  he  carefully  blanketed  him  with  a  horse 
cover  belonging  to  Mr.  Scott. 

Only  then  did  he  try  to  discover  how  the  battle 
was  progressing.  He  scarcely  expected  that  Lee's 
small  garrison  could  repel  so  large  a  body  of  trained 
soldiers.  Lee's  report  to  Washington,  rendered  a 
few  days  afterward,  embodied  the  fact  that  he  had 
not  a  soldier  for  each  window ! 

Havard  had  no  conception  of  the  safety  of  his 
temporary  quarters  until  he  climbed  into  the  mow 
and  surveyed  the  exciting  scene  through  a  ventilator. 

The  dragoons  evidently  had  bullets  to  spare ;  for 
these  pattered  incessantly  against  the  doors,  lintels, 
window  frames,  and  stone  walls,  but  most  of  them 
wide  of  the  mark.  The  devoted  little  band  within 


218  VALLEY  FORGE 

had  no  anmunition  to  waste,  and  every  shot  of 
theirs  told ;  but  now,  alas !  two  of  them  were  wound- 
ed, one  mortally. 

Tarleton  became  anxious.  He  knew  it  would  not 
do  to  linger,  for  a  detachment  from  the  American 
encampment  might  fall  upon  him,  surprising  him  in 
turn.  He  had  already  fruitlessly  lost  several  of  his 
men.  As  a  dernier  ressort  he  led  an  assaulting 
party.  But  Lee  was  ready,  and  the  young  cavalry 
commander  narrowly  escaped  death.  The  dragoons 
now  turned  their  attention  to  the  stable,  but  the 
guard  enfiladed  the  attack  in  that  direction,  and  it 
failed. 

Havard  heard  shouting !  He  ascended  to  a  point 
on  the  east  gable,  and  saw  a  subaltern  of  Lee's  com- 
pany waving  his  flag  out  of  a  north  window  of  the 
house,  and  calling  as  if  to  soldiers  at  some  distance. 
It  was  only  a  ruse  de  guerre,  but  the  dragoons  were 
afraid  of  Continental  reinforcements,  and  their  fir- 
ing did  not  disconcert  the  young  officer,  who  only 
cried  the  louder. 

Tarleton  perceived  that  his  men  could  not  be 
rallied  again  to  close  quarters  with  the  garrison. 
Perhaps  a  window  or  door  might  yet  be  carried, 
but  the  men  had  lost  spirit.  So,  in  some  disorgani- 
zation, having  marched  up  the  hill,  King  George's 
men  marched  down  again,  leaving  a  dozen  bodies 
to  be  buried  by  the  foe  in  the  little  Welsh  graveyard 
at  the  corner,  and  several  wounded  besides. 

When  the  coast  was  perfectly  clear  Havard 
emerged  from  his  shelter,  not  without  some  timidity. 
But  he  found  that  the  enemy  had  really  vanished, 


A  HORSE  WORTHY  OF  A  KINGDOM       219 

and  this  was  confirmed  later  by  the  appearance  of 
the  foragers,  who  had  managed  to  escape  while  the 
dragoons  in  their  vexation  stopped  to  wreak 
vengeance  on  a  farmhouse. 

Lee  was  profuse  in  his  expressions  of  gratitude  to 
Havard,  and  applauded  him  and  his  faithful  steed 
without  stint.  The  latter,  well  baited,  carried  his 
master  swiftly  home,  ere  nightfall,  without  further 
incident,  and  in  his  comfortable  stall  quite  as. 
speedily  forgot  his  high  honors. 


CHAPTER    XIX 

LOVE'S  LABOR  FOUND 

THE  indisposition  of  Mrs.  Knox  proved  to  be 
only  temporary,  but  Ethel's  assiduous  attention  to 
her  for  a  few  days,  including  loss  of  sleep, 
resulted  in  such  weariness  that  Havard  considerately 
proposed  an  outing.  The  offer  was  appreciated, 
especially  as  the  weather  for  the  latter  part  of  Febru- 
ary was  genial,  the  sun  tempering  the  coldness  of 
the  air  and  causing  it  to  be  invigorating  to  the  lungs. 
Havard  had  purchased  another  horse,  and  his  plan 
embraced  a  ride  up  to  the  "Massacre"  ground,  from 
which  the  principal  tokens  of  the  night  struggle  had 
been  removed.  He  had  at  first  shrunk  from  seeing 
the  bloody  field,  whose  incidents  were  repugnant  to 
him ;  but  latterly  he  had  come  to  entertain  a  desire 
to  understand  the  tactics  practised  by  the  British. 

It  was  a  time  of  the  ebb  of  unpleasant  feelings 
with  Havard,  and  his  old  feeling  of  pride  in  the 
beauty  of  his  wife  possessed  him  strongly  as  he  rode 
at  her  side,  and  studied  her  graceful  form  and  the 
aesthetic  mold  of  nose  and  lip  and  cheek.  He  still 
suffered  mental  uneasiness  at  times,  while  debating 
the  curious  questions  that  would  experience  a  resur- 
rection, do  what  he  might;  but  to-day  found  him 
admiring  his  bride  as  much  as  ever.  Havard  was 
profoundly  perplexed,  for  beneath  all  his  difficulties 
lay  the  greater  mystery  of  himself. 


LOVE'S  LABOR  FOUND  221 

However,  for  the  moment  he  dismissed  disagree- 
able obtrusions,  and  called  Ethel's  attention  to  the 
winter  charms  of  the  vale  in  which  they  rode.  Halt- 
ing upon  a  little  elevation  near  his  cousin's,  he  bade 
her  look  back  at  the  purple  hills  embossed  in  white 
and  the  snowy  gates  of  the  gap  glistening  in  the 
sunbeams.  Then  he  guided  her  eye  up  along  the 
North  Hill,  from  Mount  Misery  westward,  and 
across  the  valley  to  the  South  Hill.  Up  the  Swedes' 
Ford  road  they  trotted,  occasionally  breaking  into 
a  canter,  past  the  Presbyterian  church,  and  out  to 
the  Long  Ford  road,  where  they  turned  to  the  left, 
and  briskly  passed  the  "Admiral  Warren."  The 
ascent  of  the  ravine  to  the  high  ground  on  the  south 
was  soon  accomplished,  and  in  a  few  minutes  more 
their  willing  horses  placed  them  on  the  spot  where 
Wayne's  command  was  assailed  at  midnight  in  the 
previous  September.  As  the  snow  completely  cov- 
ered the  ground  the  floor  of  the  woods  was  not 
visible,  yet  there  remained  traces  of  an  encampment; 
and  many  of  the  trees  bore  evidence  of  musketry  fire 
in  the  shape  of  bullet  holes,  while  occasionally 
scarred  bark  was  eloquent  of  the  energetic  use  of 
the  bayonet,  or  sword,  in  the  hand-to-hand  conflict. 

A  brief  stay  was  quite  sufficient,  for  the  memories 
of  the  place  were  harrowing  to  both  and  sickening 
to  Ethel.  Two  miles  to  the  eastward  stood  the  resi- 
dence of  the  Waynes,  and  Havard  proposed  a  call 
there,  where  he  was  fairly  acquainted  owing  to  some 
transactions  with  General  Wayne  in  ante  bellum 
days. 

The  visit  was  quite  agreeable  to  Ethel,  who  was 


222  VALLEY  FORGE 

charmed  with  the  grace  of  her  hostess.  The  mansion 
itself,  which  was  one  of  the  finest  of  country  resi- 
dences, two  and  a  half  stories  high,  fronted  to  the 
south ;  and  the  view  in  this  direction  from  the  par- 
lor, though  slightly  obstructed  by  woodland,  was 
pleasing.  Mrs.  Wayne  showed  her  guests  the  sur- 
veying instruments  used  by  the  general,  and  enter- 
tained them  with  merry  narratives  of  his  courtship. 

As  the  general  was  believed  to  be  at  headquarters 
that  day — he  was  frequently  absent  to  secure  sup- 
plies for  the  army — and  as  Havard  had  mentioned 
his  purpose  to  visit  the  Walkers,  with  whom  the 
general  had  his  official  home,  Mrs.  Wayne  took 
advantage  of  the  opportunity  to  send  him  a  personal 
message. 

Riding  out  to  the  Lancaster  road,  and  down  past 
the  "Blue  Ball  Inn,"  they  presently  came  to  Peggy's 
corner;  and  immediately  Havard  thought  of  that 
September  day  when  he  rode  through  the  hamlet  and 
caught  up  with  Frances  Jones  on  her  homeward  way 
from  the  store.  What  a  flood  of  memories  it 
evoked!  Ethel  wondered  why  he  was  so  suddenly 
silent  and  absorbed  in  thought,  but  made  no  remark ; 
and  thus  they  rode  onward,  until  they  came  to  the 
Church  road  crossing  northward  to  the  valley. 

When  they  passed  the  Baptist  meeting-house  they 
saw  a  figure  in  the  graveyard  opposite  which  Havard 
recognized  as  that  of  its  former  pastor,  Chaplain 
Jones,  who  came  forward  to  greet  the  travelers. 
Havard  had  heard  much  of  his  patriotism  and  devo- 
tion to  the  sick  soldiers.  In  addition  to  his  spiritual 
ministrations,  his  practical  acquaintance  with  minor 


LOVE'S  LABOR  FOUND  223 

surgery  was  such  as  to  make  him  eminently  service- 
able in  physical  respects.  Capital  at  dressing  a 
wound,  or  at  an  amputation,  he  was  also  possessed  of 
strategic  skill  in  reconnoissances,  and  often  risked 
his  life  in  them.  When  he  learned  from  Havard  that 
he  and  Ethel  had  just  visited  the  "Paoli"  field,  he 
narrated  the  events  of  that  fearful  night  with  such 
vivid  eloquence,  albeit  with  perfect  naturalness,  that 
Ethel's  flesh  fairly  crept.  He  had  barely  escaped 
with  his  life.  Although  in  an  entirely  different  vein, 
his  account  of  life  in  the  camp,  and  especially  in 
the  hospitals,  was  deeply  interesting.  He  spoke  of 
having  visited  that  morning  the  hospital  established 
in  the  Valley  Friends'  meeting-house,  of  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  soldiers,  and  the  scarcity  of  suitable  pro- 
visions for  the  sick.  It  was  not  needful  for  Havard 
to  remark  that  dainties  were  very  scarce  with  the 
majority  of  the  people,  for  the  fact  was  well  known. 
Mrs.  Brown  had  supplied  the  hospitals  as  generously 
as  her  slender  resources  would  permit,  and  was 
grieved  at  her  inability  to  do  more.  The  presence 
of  the  British  after  Brandywine  had  been  like  the 
invasion  of  the  Egyptian  locusts  that  ate  up  every 
green  thing. 

The  chaplain  rode  with  his  newly  met  friends  to 
Wayne's  headquarters,  and  as  they  passed  through 
a  lane  extending  from  the  Swedes'  Ford  road  to 
the  rear  of  the  property  called  their  attention  to  the 
fine  springs  gushing  from  beneath  a  bank  to  the 
right.  They  added  materially  to  the  little  stream 
that  supplied  power  for  the  mill  near  by,  which  was 
run  to  its  utmost  capacity  to  grind  grain  for  the 


224  VALLEY  FORGE 

army,  and  about  their  margin  were  beds  of  water- 
cress so  green  and  crisp  that  the  chaplain  determined 
to  secure  a  bunch  of  it  for  some  of  his  wards. 

The  worthy  parson  knew  what  trivial  circum- 
stances of  war  were  sometimes  interesting  to  civil- 
ians, and  asked  Ethel  if  she  had  seen  the  bullet  hole 
in  the  staircase  of  Jacob  Walker's  house — mean- 
while pointing  in  that  direction.  Upon  her  con- 
fessing that  she  had  not  even  heard  of  it  he  advised 
her  to  ride  around  that  way  and  view  it.  It  was 
the  work  of  a  Hessian  who  pretended  that  rebels 
were  concealed  in  the  building.  It  was  now  General 
Potter's  headquarters,  while  General  Poor  occupied 
the  house  of  Benjamin  Jones. 

Soon  they  were  at  Joseph  Walker's  door,  and  in 
a  few  moments  more  were  admitted  to  the  presence 
of  General  Wayne.  The  energetic  young  briga- 
dier was  attended  by  his  staff.  Colonel  Robin- 
son, Majors  Fishbourne  and  Ryan,  and  Dr.  Black- 
well. 

The  huge  fireplaces  of  the  reception  rooms  were 
blazing  with  logs  that  had  been  dragged  into  the 
house  by  a  horse.  Afterward  Ethel  was  taken  down 
to  see  the  heavy  arched  foundations  of  the  chimneys. 
The  "Hessian  closet,"  a  cupboard  in  the  hall, 
embedded  in  the  solid  wall,  large  enough  to  hold 
several  persons  who  could  stand  upright  in  it,  proved 
a  curio. 

While  the  general  was  still  extending  courtesies  to 
his  callers  two  more  were  announced.  These  proved 
to  be  Baron  De  Kalb  and  General  Daniel  Morgan. 
The  former  was  considerably  past  middle  life, 


LOVE'S  LABOR  FOUND  225 

although  usually  taken  to  be  twenty  years  younger, 
the  reflection  of  his  abstemious  habits;  the  lat- 
ter was  about  forty,  and  had  recently  returned  from 
the  north,  where  Lafayette's  request  for  a  coadjutor 
had  sent  him.  The  scheme  concocted  by  Gates  and 
Conway  to  get  the  young  marquis  away  from  Wash- 
ington by  pretending  to  send  him  upon  a  Canadian 
expedition  had  collapsed,  and  the  two  stalwart  sup- 
porters of  the  commander-in-chief  were  once  more 
at  his  side. 

To  the  joy  of  all  sincere  patriots  the  conspiracy 
against  Washington  known  as  the  "Conway  Cabal" 
was  fast  melting  into  air ;  and  the  edge  tools  at  first 
handled  with  such  skill  by  the  ambitious  schemers 
were  beginning  to  severely  wound  their  own  hands. 
The  general's  efforts  with  Congress  for  the  better- 
ment of  the  army  were  making  substantial  progress. 
His  representations  that  some  part  of  his  troops 
were  deprived  of  meat  for  an  entire  week,  and  that 
the  other  part  did  not  receive  it  oftener  than  once 
in  three  or  four  days,  finally  awoke  the  sluggish 
legislators  to  the  performance  of  their  functions. 
The  committee  appointed  to  investigate  the  diffi- 
culty reported  the  distress  and  misery  of  the  soldiers, 
and  inspired  measures  to  alleviate  it. 

The  Baron  De  Kalb  acknowledged  the  presence  of 
Mrs.  Havard  Brown  with  the  grace  characteristic 
of  that  amiable  foreigner.  Tall  and  erect,  swarthy 
of  countenance,  with  dark  blue  eyes  and  finely 
shaped  gray  head,  he  exercised  authority  over  his 
men  so  kindly  that  they  blessed  the  day  when  he 
became  the  successor  of  General  Weedon.  Abijah 


226  VALLEY  FORGE 

Stephens,  in  whose  house  he  resided  for  several 
months,  was  fond  of  telling  of  the  simplicity  and 
urbanity  of  this  excellent  soldier.  General  Morgan, 
in  command  of  the  outposts  and  moving  about  con- 
tinually, but  part  of  the  time  a  resident  of  John 
Moore's  house,  was  a  tall,  muscular  man  celebrated 
for  his  skill  with  nature's  weapons  as  well  as  with 
the  rifle.  He  had  done  great  work  at  Saratoga, 
but  was  practically  ignored  by  Gates  in  his  reports 
of  that  battle. 

The  afternoon  was  wearing  away,  and — perhaps 
it  was  the  mental  excitement  of  the  day,  or  quite 
as  likely  the  rather  extended  ride  she  had  taken — a 
feeling  of  languor  had  taken  possession  of  Ethel, 
coupled  with  general  discomfort.  Her  head  ached, 
and  she  suggested  to  Havard  that  they  proceed 
homeward.  Paying  their  parting  respects  to 
General  Wayne  and  his  company  of  officers,  the 
pair  were  soon  in  the  saddle,  and  twenty  minutes  of 
easy  riding  brought  them  to  the  familiar  horse 
block  in  front  of  their  home. 

In  the  morning  it  seemed  certain  that  a  spell  of 
sickness  was  impending.  Ethel's  skin  was  hot  and 
dry,  and  the  unfavorable  sensations  of  the  previous 
day  continued,  perhaps  even  more  marked  in  inten- 
sity. Havard  exhausted  his  medical  knowledge  in 
examining  his  wife's  tongue,  which  he  found  heavily 
furred,  and  in  feeling  her  pulse,  which  was  much 
quickened. 

Ethel  still  refused  to  see  a  doctor,  but  Havard 
exclaimed  that  if  she  were  no  better  on  the  morrow 
he  would  bring  one  without  her  permission.  She 


LOVE'S  LABOR  FOUND  227 

seemed  dull  and  heavy  during  the  entire  day,  and 
to  gratify  her  mother-in-law  drank  freely  of 
a  "panacea."  It  was  hot  and  strong,  and,  in  spite 
of  the  wry  aspect  her  face  assumed  when  she  swal- 
lowed it,  it  appeared  to  soothe  her  into  slumber. 
The  next  morning  she  felt  somewhat  relieved,  but 
a  scarlet  rash  had  made  it  appearance,  and  when 
Mrs.  Brown  saw  it  she  dispatched  Havard  for  the 
doctor.  The  nearest  physician  at  the  time  was  Dr. 
Potts,  who,  though  his  time  was  usually  completely 
absorbed  by  his  army  duties,  might  be  willing  for 
acquaintance'  sake  to  examine  Ethel  and  prescribe 
treatment.  So  Havard  went  over  to  the  hospital, 
and  fortunately  found  the  doctor-general,  who  will- 
ingly agreed  to  accompany  Havard  to  his  home, 
"and  breathe  a  little  fresh  air" ;  but  his  merry,  jest- 
ing manner  changed  when  he  saw  the  patient.  A 
very  slight  examination  confirmed  his  suspicions, 
and  he  prepared  the  medicines  which  he  judged  it 
best  to  prescribe. 

His  stay  was  brief,  nor  was  he  communicative 
until  he  left  the  room;  and  then,  turning  to  Mrs. 
Brown,  who  had  followed  him,  he  pronounced  the 
disease  smallpox.  It  was  a  realization  of  her  fears, 
but  the  intelligence  was  very  sore.  Still  she  ventured 
the  inquiry,  "May  it  not  be  scarlet  fever,  Doctor?" 

"No,"  said  he  very  firmly,  "I  have  had  too  many 
cases  to  be  mistaken.  There  have  been  hundreds 
of  them  over  there" — pointing  to  the  camp  grounds. 
"I  have  been  afraid  of  a  general  outbreak  in  the 
neighborhood,  but  it  has  not  come  yet.  We  must 
keep  this  case  well  isolated,  and  you  must  do  your 


228  VALLEY  FORGE 

best  to  prevent  it  from  spreading.  However,  keep 
cool,  don't  be  afraid  of  it,  and  perhaps  we  can  confine 
the  miserable  disease  to  Mrs.  Havard." 

It  was  his  way  of  referring  to  Ethel.  The  doc- 
tor's eyes  twinkled  as  though  it  were  but  a  trifling 
thing,  annoying,  to  be  sure,  but  not  worth  worrying 
about. 

Mrs.  Brown  was  uneasy  about  the  matter  of  medi- 
cal attendance,  for  she  feared  that  the  doctor  would 
not  be  able  to  give  Ethel  attention.  When  she 
expressed  her  anxiety,  the  doctor  smiled,  and  said, 
"I  shall  stand  by  you,  Mrs.  Brown,  you  may  be  sure. 
You  will  really  not  need  me  very  often,  if  you  will 
keep  the  directions,  as  I  am  sure  you  will.  But  I 
will  come  over  each  day,  if  possible,  and  oftener  if 
any  complication  should  arise.  I  am  afraid  that  I 
am  to  blame  for  this  case,  by  my  coming  to  the 
house  to  attend  to  Mrs.  Knox,  and  since  I  have  got- 
ten you  into  the  scrape  I  must  get  you  out  of  it!" 
Havard,  sorely  stricken,  heard  this  announcement 
gratefully. 

Besides  concern  for  Ethel's  recovery  there  were 
other  matters  to  be  considered.  The  use  of  the  house 
by  General  Knox  was  now  peculiarly  embarrassing. 
The  Browns  scarcely  knew  where  to  turn.  How- 
ever, it  was  temporarily  agreed  that  Havard  alone 
should  wait  upon  his  wife,  unless  there  should  be 
grave  developments,  and  also  give  attention  to  the 
stock,  while  his  mother  would  preside  as  usual  in 
household  affairs. 

Pains  were  taken  to  isolate  the  room  in  which 
Ethel  lay,  and  exactness  in  carrying  out  the  direc- 


LOVE'S  LABOR  FOUND  229 

tions  of  Dr.  Potts  was  observed.  Certain  additional 
prescriptions  suited  to  the  case  had  been  dispatched 
by  the  kind  physician. 

The  fever,  which  had  at  first  promised  to  abate, 
increased,  and  the  alarm  of  both  Havard  and  his 
mother  grew  with  it.  The  young  husband  was  now 
suffering  intensely,  for  his  natural  tenderness  came 
into  perfect  play,  and  he  bent  over  his  wife  in  the 
deepest  solicitude.  The  doctor  observed  his  intelli- 
gent handling  of  the  patient,  and  commended  him, 
rallying  him  with  the  inquiry  whether  he  could  not 
be  induced  to  take  an  assistant  surgeon's  position 
in  the  army.  "The  boys,"  he  laughingly  declared, 
"would  cry  out  for  you  if  they  knew  of  you." 

But  the  doctor  saw  that  Ethel  was  gravely  ill. 
He  had  a  fashion  of  indulging  in  fun  at  the  most 
critical  moments,  and,  though  very  few  knew  it,  the 
more  amusing  and  unconcerned  he  seemed  to  be, 
the  gloomier  was  the  outlook.  But  this  choice  spirit 
was  not  only  thinking  of  cheering  the  spirits  of  his 
patients  in  the  hour  of  peril ;  he  whistled  to  keep  up 
his  own  courage  when  perplexed  with  deep-seated 
disease. 

The  doctor  did  not  say  so,  but  he  expected  Ethel 
to  become  delirious,  and  so  it  eventuated.  Havard, 
strong  and  brave  and  tender,  had  his  hands  full. 
His  spirit  was  tried,  and  the  strain  upon  soul  and 
body  was  fast  becoming  greater  than  he  could  bear. 
Help  was  out  of  the  question,  for  the  scourge  was 
dreaded  by  the  most  humane. 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  fifth  day,  and  the  fever 
continued.  After  a  hard  afternoon  Havard  had 


230  VALLEY  FORGE 

come  downstairs  for  a  mouthful  of  fresh  air.  While 
his  mother  relieved  him  at  Ethel's  bedside  he  put 
on  his  hat  and  greatcoat  and  walked  out  into  the 
yard.  It  was  a  clear,  cool  night,  not  intensely  cold, 
but  bracing  and  invigorating.  The  trees  around  the 
house  would  have  shut  it  in  but  for  the  fact  that  they 
were  leafless,  and  Havard  looked  up  at  the  glim- 
mering company  of  the  sky  with  the  feeling  that  he 
would  like  to  call  them  to  his  aid.  He  could  see 
Sirius  shining  in  the  southeast,  and  above  it  the 
bright  but  inferior  Procyon.  In  the  south  Orion 
blazed  conspicuously. 

He  leaned  upon  the  gate  that  opened  into  the 
road,  and  pondered  upon  the  strange  events  that  had 
come  to  pass  in  the  last  few  months.  He  dreamed 
of  his  work  on  the  farm,  the  jingling  music  of  the 
plow  and  harrow  and  the  farm  wagon,  the  songs 
of  the  birds  in  the  undisturbed  freedom  of  the  field, 
the  lazy  movements  of  the  cattle  and  the  gambols 
of  the  calves.  He  thought  of  the  forge  and  the  mill, 
of  the  familiar  nooks  in  the  valley,  the  tall  hills, 
the  sparkling  streams  flowing  through  the  green 
meadows,  the  friends  of  childhood  and  of  later 
years.  He  saw  the  panorama  repeating  itself,  and 
awaited  with  some  dread  the  remaining  unfolding. 
He  thought  of  the  first  time  he  had  met  Ethel,  of 
the  renewal  of  acquaintanceship  at  Saint  Peter's, 
of  the  growth  of  affection,  of  his  marriage;  and 
inevitably  his  thoughts  would  tend  to  his  own  ques- 
tionings of  himself.  And,  whether  he  would  or 
would  not,  in  all  his  troubled  visions  the  image  of 
Frances  Jones,  child,  maiden,  woman,  arose  to  his 


LOVE'S  LABOR  FOUND  231 

gaze  as  the  moon's  reflection  riding  on  the  waves  of  a 
restless  sea  shines  in  the  eyes  of  one  who  looks  over 
the  ship's  rail  into  the  billowy  deep. 

How  long  he  would  have  continued  to  linger,  lost 
in  thought,  cannot  be  surmised ;  but  the  figure  of  a 
woman  bearing  a  bundle  suddenly  appeared  before 
him.  If  he  was  at  first  startled  at  the  apparition,  his 
brain  subsequently  reeled  for  a  moment  with  abso- 
lute surprise  when  he  saw  who  it  was  that 
approached  him.  It  was  almost  a  gasp  with  which 
he  stammered  the  single  word  "Frances !" 

She,  too,  was  startled,  at  seeing  Havard  by  the 
gate,  for  she  did  not  perceive  him  until  he  spoke. 
But  it  was  only  a  momentary  and  perfectly  natural 
surprise  on  her  part,  and  the  feeling  immediately 
subsided.  But  not  so  with  Havard.  He  could 
scarcely  command  himself  to  speak.  The  impulse 
was  strong  to  invite  Frances  into  the  house  at  once, 
but  he  recollected  the  horrible  nightmare,  and 
immediately  cried  out,  "O,  Frances,  I  cannot  ask 
you  to  come  in.  Ethel — my — my — wife — is  sick 
with  a  dangerous  disease,  and  you  must  not  come 
near  us." 

It  was  with  a  wrench  that  he  said  it,  for  it  gave 
him  infinite  pain.  Even  in  the  confusion  of  the 
moment,  the  inexplicable  something  that  radiated 
from  Frances  Jones  made  itself  recognized,  and 
her  voice  breathed  a  calm  like  that  of  the  skies  he 
had  just  been  scanning. 

But  Frances,  now  perfectly  self-possessed,  said  in 
that  soft  tone  that  through  the  years  had  always 
proved  a  species  of  music  in  his  ears,  "Havard,  I 


232  VALLEY  FORGE 

know  it,  and  I've  come  to  help  you  nurse" — here 
she  faltered,  being  about  to  say  "Mrs.  Brown,"  but 
she  at  once  controlled  herself  and  said — "your  wife." 

Havard  was  great  enough  to  argue  the  case  with 
her.  What  he  answered  at  first,  in  his  deep  bewil- 
derment and  gratitude  he  could  never  recall,  but  it 
was  grateful  to  Frances.  But  he  could  have  suffered 
any  hardship  rather  that  permit  Frances  to  run 
the  risk.  That  he  actually  craved  her  ministry  in 
the  hour  of  danger  he  did  not  conceal  from  himself, 
but  he  felt  that  duty  required  him  to  reject  such  reck- 
less unselfishness.  But  Frances  proved  the  stronger 
in  argument,  told  him  that  her  determination  was 
deliberate,  and  that  Freeman,  the  farm  boy,  had 
brought  her  over  prepared  to  stay  until  the  danger 
was  past. 

What  was  there  then  to  do  but  to  escort  her  to  the 
house?  However,  before  reaching  it  Frances 
hastened  to  say  the  only  thing  that  required  an 
effort.  She  said  it  very  lightly,  but  it  cost  her 
heavily,  and  she  was  thankful  to  escape  the  beams 
of  the  candle.  It  was  an  apology  for  not  having 
called  on  Mrs.  Brown — she  used  that  term  this  time 
— to  wish  her  happiness,  and  bid  her  welcome  to  her 
new  home. 

The  words  perforated  the  already  sore  heart  of 
Havard  like  a  needle ;  but  before  he  could  frame  any 
response  Frances  relieved  him  of  embarrassment  by 
continuing:  "With  God's  help,  Havard,  we'll  bring 
her  yet  to  a  condition  of  health  where  those  wishes 
shall  be  fulfilled."  And  the  grief-stricken  man  at 
her  side  felt  that  she  had  been  carrying  his  burdens 


LOVE'S  LABOR  FOUND  233 

all  unknown  to  him,  and  successfully  transferring- 
the  heaviest  to  the  Everlasting  arms. 

As  they  entered  the  house  they  met  Mrs.  Brown, 
who  had  just  stepped  downstairs  for  a  minute, 
leaving  Ethel  asleep.  She  recoiled  at  the  danger  to 
Frances,  whom  she  loved  next  to  Havard  himself, 
and  was  amazed  at  her  son's  carelessness  in  permit- 
ting her  to  come  into  the  house ;  but  in  an  instant  she 
divined  the  true  state  of  affairs,  and  in  a  flood  of 
tears  clasped  the  girl  to  her  bosom,  while  Havard, 
no  longer  able  to  contain  himself,  slipped  out  of  the 
house.  Frances  was  too  affected  by  the  warmth  of 
her  reception  to  utter  any  words,  but  she  playfully 
swung  her  bundle  about  as  a  token  of  her  purpose 
in  coming.  "Just  like  the  men,"  Mrs.  Brown  found 
voice  to  say,  in  an  attempt  to  dispose  of  the  agitation 
humorously,  "they  are  always  blundering.  To  think 
that  Havard  didn't  carry  it  in !" 


CHAPTER   XX 
A  VALLEY  OF  HUMILIATION 

THE  advent  of  Frances  Jones  breathed  a  new 
atmosphere  into  the  home  of  the  Browns.  From 
that  very  moment  hope  glimmered  in  the  hearts  of 
Havard  and  his  mother.  Even  the  sick  Ethel 
noticed  a  change  in  her  surroundings,  and  when  she 
opened  her  eyes  half  inquiringly  at  the  fresh,  sweet 
face  that  bent  lovingly  over  her  she  seemed  to  appeal 
for  more  of  the  grateful  touches  of  her  new  nurse's 
hand.  The  mysterious  and  loathsome  disease  tri- 
umphed in  pursuing  its  natural  course,  but  relief 
was  afforded  the  sorely  tried  patient,  while  Frances 
anticipated  her  wants  by  a  ready  interpretation,  and 
poured  out  such  attentions  as  brought  a  flush  of 
gladness  to  her  cheeks. 

It  was  a  unique  experience  for  Havard;  often 
he  doubted  its  reality,  and  designated  it  an  illusion. 
Yet  the  facts  were  daily  before  him,  and  he  help- 
lessly floated  along  with  the  current  of  fate.  Ethel 
looked  so  different  in  many  other  respects  than  that 
of  the  tint  and  disfigurement  of  her  skin  that  she 
seemed  quite  another  person.  Her  luxuriant  hair 
was  cut  close,  and  the  contour  of  her  face  had 
changed.  Her  eyes  were  unnaturally  bright,  and 
looked  out  of  deep  hollows.  But  Havard  thought 
of  her  with  vastly  more  devotion  than  he  might  have 

234 


A  VALLEY  OF  HUMILIATION  235 

deemed  possible  after  being  racked  with  morbid 
doubts  and  fears  for  several  weeks.  Very  tenderly 
he  performed  the  numberless  little  services  that  eased 
her  body  or  gratified  her  mind. 

Frances  was  a  wonder  to  him.  He  was  still  dazed 
to  think  of  her  amazing  self-sacrifice — for  his  sake 
as  he  could  not  but  feel.  Doubtless  she  would  have 
nobly  offered  her  services  to  any  neighbor,  but  he 
felt  that  personality  also  entered  into  the  trans- 
action— the  personality  of  old  time  friendship — and 
it  both  solaced  and  grieved  him.  It  was  pleasant 
to  think  that  her  regard  for  her  childhood  playmate 
still  existed ;  it  was  humiliating  to  receive  so  great  a 
favor  when  he  had  turned  away  from  her  for 
another. 

There  was  a  gleam  of  womanliness  in  one  of 
Frances's  ministries  that  both  amused  and  delighted 
Havard.  When  the  inclination  to  find  relief  from 
the  itching  sensation  connected  with  the  development 
of  the  pustules  became  overmastering,  and  Ethel 
would  have  sacrificed  her  future  facial  charms  to 
appease  it  by  scratching,  Frances,  appreciating  the 
imperiled  beauty  of  her  ward,  continually  anointed 
her  skin  with  the  oil  of  olives — so  successfully  that 
when  the  disease  reached  its  omega  none  could  sur- 
mise that  she  had  ever  been  a  sufferer  with  the 
most  dreaded  of  all  contagions. 

The  shadow  which  had  rested  so  long  upon  the 
household  was  slow  in  dispelling.  All  were  devoutly 
grateful  to  the  Higher  Power  that  it  did  not  enlarge, 
and  that  Ethel  remained  the  only  sufferer.  Frances 
would  have  returned  home  as  soon  as  convalescence 


236  VALLEY  FORGE 

seemed  well  established,  but  that  was  strongly  vetoed 
by  the  Browns.  Ethel  regarded  her  as  an  angel, 
Havard's  heart  echoed  the  estimate,  and  his  mother's 
affectionate  feeling  toward  her  was  intensified  a 
hundredfold,  if  that  were  possible.  Their  expostula- 
tions were  effective,  and  Frances  remained  until  it 
appeared  reasonable  to  believe  that  the  work  of 
disinfection  was  thoroughly  accomplished,  and  that 
she  might  return  without  risk  to  her  own  family. 

The  thirtieth  of  April  arrived,  and  since  the 
day  was  in  every  respect  propitious  Frances  was 
escorted  to  her  home,  her  mother  having  insisted 
upon  her  return  by  that  time,  unless  prevented  by 
storm.  The  mildness  of  spring  was  upon  the  land, 
the  vivid  green  of  the  carpet  of  the  Valley  being 
matched  by  the  delicate  tint  of  the  forward  foliage, 
while  the  air  was  sweet  with  balmy  odors. 

It  was  thought  best  not  to  permit  Ethel  to  under- 
go the  fatigue  of  the  ride  to  the  Jones's,  and  so  it 
fell  to  Havard's  lot  to  ride  at  Frances's  side  as  in 
the  olden  days.  Mrs.  Brown  fancied  that  the  cir- 
cumstance was  a  little  trying  to  the  girl,  and  that 
she  exhibited  some  symptoms  of  awkwardness 
because  of  it.  Havard  was  conscious  that  she  was 
ill  at  ease,  and  the  effect  upon  himself  was  not 
encouraging. 

It  was  a  loving  farewell  that  Mrs.  Brown  and 
Ethel  gave  their  departing  guest ;  nor  was  it  accom- 
plished in  a  moment.  Over  the  latter  came  so  keen 
a  sense  of  what  she  owed  to  Frances  that  she  sobbed 
her  words  of  gratitude,  and  clung  to  her  feebly, 
as  though  unwilling  to  let  her  go.  Frances,  too, 


A  VALLEY  OF  HUMILIATION  237 

was  deeply  affected,  but  attempted  to  rally  the  con- 
valescent with  compliments  upon  her  appearance. 
Through  her  assiduous  attention  Ethel  had  escaped 
all  permanent  markings  upon  her  face  except  a  single 
small  pit,  so  situated  that  Frances  told  her  it  would 
heighten  her  beauty  in  Havard's  eyes,  since  it  simu- 
lated a  dimple.  But  this  was  venturing  upon  ground 
whereon  her  own  heart  was  very  sensitive,  and  she 
was  really  glad  when  Mrs.  Brown  folded  her  in  her 
arms  and  wept  as  she  said  good-bye.  It  afforded 
her  own  overcharged  feelings  an  escape. 

Then  by  a  common  revulsion  all  smiled,  affirming 
that  it  was  not  a  farewell  like  that  attached  to  a 
journey  across  the  sea,  for  they  were  separated  by 
but  a  mile  or  two,  and  that  under  other  and  brighter 
auspices  they  must  often  meet.  Mrs.  Brown  prom- 
ised to  take  Ethel  over  to  visit  Frances  and  the 
remainder  of  the  folks  as  soon  as  it  should  be  advis- 
able ;  and  so  they  parted. 

The  ladies  of  the  house  escorted  Frances  to  the 
horse  block  and  saw  her  mount,  and  then  gayly 
waved  their  handkerchiefs  as  she  rode  away.  Down 
the  slope  the  equestrians  went  to  the  creek  side, 
and  wound  around  its  curving  elbow  beneath  the 
fringing  chestnuts.  The  ride  through  the  woods 
was  inspiriting,  and  when  they  emerged  from  them, 
and  neared  the  home  of  Cousin  Samuel  Havard, 
they  perceived  the  scent  of  early  lilacs  on  the  zephyrs 
that  blew  from  the  creek. 

Both  Frances  and  Havard  were  shy.  It  was 
scarcely  possible  to  suggest  any  theme  upon  which 
they  could  be  perfectly  unconcerned,  unless,  indeed, 


238  VALLEY  FORGE 

it  was  the  trite  one  of  the  war,  and  Havard  accord- 
ingly called  attention  to  the  prospects  of  the  army, 
taking  his  cue  from  a  squad  of  soldiers  they  met. 
But  that  led  to  a  reference  to  Howe's  use  of  the 
Jones  homestead,  which  in  its  turn  recalled  the  last 
time  they  had  been  out  together. 

It  was  decidedly  trying  to  the  young  man,  and  yet 
if  he  had  so  much  as  grazed  the  latch  of  the  gate  of 
recollections  he  would  have  found  it  an  immeasur- 
able relief  to  say  all  that  was  in  his  heart.  He  was 
tempted  to  try  to  explain  what  his  conscience  told 
him  needed  explanation ;  but  in  spite  of  the  strength 
of  his  emotions,  now  much  quickened  by  Frances's 
presence  and  a  flood  of  memories,  he  refrained,  for 
reason  and  a  sense  of  justice  in  another  direction 
providentially  intervened. 

As  they  emerged  upon  the  Swedes'  Ford  road, 
and  were  about  turning  toward  Frances's,  they  met 
Jennie  Reese's  father  riding  up  from  the  river.  He 
had  a  mournful  tale  to  tell  after  the  usual  greetings 
of  the  day  had  been  exchanged. 

"They  buried  an  officer  at  the  Valley  meeting- 
house this  morning,"  said  Mr.  Reese ;  "he  was  mor- 
tally wounded  in  a  duel,  and  died  very  soon  after- 
ward." 

Both  Frances  and  Havard  expressed  horror  at 
the  fact,  and  were  naturally  anxious  to  know  its 
occasion. 

"Couldn't  learn  any  particulars,"  said  Abel  Reese ; 
"it  was  Lieutenant-Colonel  Green,  and  the  man  who 
shot  him  was  Lieutenant  White.  Green  was  from 
down  East  somewhere,  and  the  other  from  the 


A  VALLEY  OF  HUMILIATION  239 

South.  I  was  just  coming  up  from  the  ford,  and 
when  I  reached  the  meetinghouse  lane  I  heard 
drums  beating  slow  and  muffled  like,  and  saw  a 
procession  about  the  graveyard.  So  I  went  up,  and 
found  that  they  had  wrapped  the  dead  officer  in  a 
blanket  they  got  from  Mary  Pugh,  because  they 
couldn't  get  a  sheet.  They  buried  him  near  Captain 
Speer — you  recollect  how  they  put  him  away  in 
February,  when  there  were  so  many  officers  there. "" 

Havard  spoke  of  the  excessive  loss  of  Continental 
officers,  and  referred  to  the  recent  burial,  in  Maurice 
Stephens's  field,  of  Commissary  John  Waterman  and 
the  marking  of  his  grave  with  two  common  red 
stones  bearing  his  initials — something  new  in  the 
history  of  the  encampment. 

Mr.  Reese  passed  up  the  Swedes'  Ford  road, 
while  Frances  and  Havard  turned  off  at  the  corner. 
Soon  they  met  Aunt  Lydia  Jones,  who  teasingly 
called  out,  "Looks  like  old  times  to  see  you  together 
again.  How's  Mrs.  Brown,  Havard?" 

The  reference  was  rather  a  home  thrust,  alike 
unwelcome  to  both ;  but  the  inquiry  afforded  a  loop- 
hole of  escape,  and  Havard  was  happy  to  answer 
that  his  wife  was  almost  well  again. 

"Glad  to  hear  it,"  cheerily  said  the  sociable  house- 
keeper. "Saladin's  in  good  spirits  to-day.  Wasn't 
it  wonderful  you  got  him  back  again  after  the  red- 
coats stole  him  ?" 

After  more  chat  they  rode  on  to  Frances's  home, 
and  in  the  spacious  yard  in  front  of  the  log  barn 
Havard  helped  Frances  from  her  saddle,  and  after 
tying  the  horses  accompanied  her  to  the  house.  But 


240  VALLEY  FORGE 

Mrs.  Jones  had  noticed  their  approach,  and,  hasten- 
ing to  the  gate,  met  them,  when,  after  familiarly 
addressing  Havard,  she  nearly  smothered  her  girl 
with  embraces. 

Then,  turning  to  the  young  man  again,  she  said, 
"Come,  Havard,  you  must  put  your  horses  in  the 
stalls  and  stay  to  dinner.  Here,  Freeman,"  she 
called  to  the  farm  boy,  "come  and  attend  to  Mr. 
Brown's  horses." 

That  youth  had  been  skulking  in  the  background, 
perhaps  afraid  of  encountering  representatives  from 
a  house  that  had  experienced  the  invasion  of  a  fell 
disease;  but  he  complied  with  the  directions  of  his 
mistress,  and  relieved  Havard.  But  the  latter  pro- 
tested that  he  must  return  forthwith. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,  Havard;  your  mother  knows 
well  enough  that  I  will  not  let  you  go  back  until 
after  dinner.  I  hoped  your  wife  would  be  well  enough 
to  come  with  you.  She's  almost  sound  again,  isn't 
she?  I'm  so  glad  she's  been  spared  to  you.  I  sup- 
pose your  mother  couldn't  leave  her  all  alone,  to 
come  with  you.  I'm  real  disappointed  that  neither 
of  them  has  come.  No,  you  must  not  go  home: 
I've  got  a  chicken  ready,  and  you  must  taste  some 
of  my  gravy." 

Unfortunately,  Mr.  Jones  was  absent,  but  his 
place  was  supplied  by  another  visitor,  who  knocked 
at  the  door  when  the  family  was  about  to  be  seated 
at  the  table.  It  was  not  a  stranger,  but  the  travel- 
ing merchant,  laden  with  a  stock  of  household  indis- 
pensables.  There  were  few  houses  on  his  regular 
route  where  Heinrich  Kichenheim  was  not  welcomed 


A  VALLEY  OF  HUMILIATION  241 

to  the  best  the  house  could  afford.  Perfectly  honest 
in  his  dealings,  and  irreproachable  in  his  social 
behavior,  he  was  quite  a  convenience  to  those  people 
who  lived  remote  from  the  stores;  and  he  always 
acknowledged  the  gift  of  food  and  lodging  by  the 
present  of  some  trifling  article  in  his  pack,  or  a 
concession  in  the  price  of  his  wares. 

Havard  had  not  seen  him  since  the  episode  of  the 
burning  of  the  Thomson  house,  and  was  glad  to 
meet  him  again,  and  hear  the  tidings  from  the  city. 

The  itinerant  merchant  was  generously  newsy. 
"De  Pritish  folks  ish  shtill  taking  it  easy  down 
dere,"  he  said.  "But  dere  is  sOmedings  on  foot  dat 
means  much.  De  soldiers  haf  somehow  heard  dat 
Howe  is  to  go  home  soon ;  and  dey  is  sorry,  for  de 
next  man  may  be  a  fighter  and  get  dem  into  plenty 
of  trouble.  Dere  is  to  be  a  grand  party,  soon,  for 
de  general ;  and  it  is  exshpected  dat  it  will  beat  any 
ding  of  de  kind  dat  ever  was  before." 

Havard  wondered  how  the  peddler  got  so  much 
information,  and  why  the  British  permitted  him  to 
wander  so  freely  in  their  camp.  He  gave  expres- 
sion to  this  surprise,  but  Heinrich  vouchsafed  no 
explanation.  Havard  spoke  of  running  off  the  stores 
at  the  Forge,  and  casually  referred  to  Tryon.  At 
mention  of  this  man  the  peddler  seemed  considerably 
interested,  and  asked  a  number  of  questions,  being 
apparently  more  intimate  with  the  subject  than  Ha- 
vard might  have  supposed.  But  he  had  nothing  to 
communicate,  apparently,  for  he  was  reticent  about 
answering  any  of  Havard's  inquiries. 

The  dinner  proceeded  to  the  satisfaction  of  all, 


242  VALLEY  FORGE 

Mrs.  Jones  expressing  her  regret  that  neither  of  the 
Mrs.  Browns  was  present.  "You  must  bring  your 
wife  and  mother  very  soon,  Havard,"  she  insisted, 
"and  spend  the  day  with  us.  It  will  do  your  wife 
good ;  and  your  mother,  I  am  sure,  likes  to  spend  a 
little  while  with  her  old  crony." 

Havard  promised  to  bring  them  at  the  first  favor- 
able opportunity.  He  had  already  taken  occasion 
to  tell  his  hostess  how  deep  was  his  obligation  to 
Frances  for  her  splendid  service — that  of  a  sister, 
he  would  have  said,  but  the  word  choked  him. 
And  he  felt  that  with  the  ice  thus  broken  it  would 
be  very  pleasant  to  have  the  old  intimacy  continue, 
even  in  its  new  dress. 

Among  the  dishes  was  one  of  early  radishes,  and 
another  of  scullions.  Mrs.  Jones  was  proud  of 
these  crisp  vegetables,  and  Havard  said  the  chicken 
was  perfect,  and  that  the  gravy  was  even  better, 
which  created  a  laugh.  The  dessert  consisted  of 
rhubarb  pie,  which  Mrs.  Jones  recommended  as 
heartily  as  she  had  done  the  relishes. 

Havard  felt  that  he  ought  not  to  remain  long 
after  dinner,  because  of  Ethel's  "donciness,"  and 
therefore  begged  to  be  excused  soon  after  the  con- 
clusion of  the  meal.  And  the  peddler,  who  had  been 
contributing  not  a  little  zest  to  the  repast,  sometimes 
of  a  thoroughly  humorous  nature,  waited  only  to 
display  his  stock  in  its  most  inviting  aspect  before 
departing  in  search  of  other  patrons. 

"De  chicken  ish  goot  enough  for  dat  gormandizer. 
General  Howe,  hisself,"  he  remarked,  when  he  had 
disposed  of  a  generous  portion  of  it.  "Dere  general 


A  VALLEY  OF  HUMILIATION  243 

would  never  disturb  dere  General  Washington  so 
long  as  he  get  such  goot  eatings."  And  when  he 
tasted  the  pie  he  seemed  to  have  found  the  third 
heavens  of  gastronomical  delight.  As  though  he 
were  revealing  a  secret,  he  said  to  Mrs.  Jones,  "It 
ish  always  mealtime  when  I  comes  to  you  mit 
goots;  perhapsh  it  seems  strange,  but  I  like  to  get 
mine  eatings  here  mit  you."  But  Mrs.  Jones  had 
been  shrewd  enough  to  have  noticed  that  fact 
before. 

Havard's  good-byes  were  grateful,  and  he  rode 
away  leading  the  horse  that  had  carried  Frances. 
He  felt  that  he  had  sustained  an  irreparable  loss  that 
day,  and  that  the  vacant  saddle  stood  for  much  in 
his  household  and  heart.  But  on  the  whole  he  felt 
better;  his  burden  was  lightened  considerably,  and 
the  dainty  cherry  bells  that  dropped  upon  him 
whispered  comfort. 

Above  all,  the  star  of  Duty  shone  in  the  empyrean, 
undimmed  by  the  bright  rays  of  the  vernal  sun.  The 
winter  of  anxiety  and  mental  perplexity  was  giving 
place  at  last  to  the  genial  influences  of  spring. 

Consequently  it  was  with  a  light  step  that  Havard 
pressed  the  doorsill  of  his  own  home,  and  saluted 
both  his  wife  and  his  mother  with  a  kiss. 

"I  knew  thee  would  not  get  home  in  time  for 
dinner,"  said  Mrs.  Brown.  "How  is  Mercy  Jones?" 

And  Havard,  in  a  refreshingly  gay  mood,  told  of 
the  excellent  dinner,  upon  whiich  his  mother 
remarked,  "Ethel,  thee  and  I  shall  have  to  be  look- 
ing after  our  laurels."  He  also  narrated  the  gossip  of 
Philadelphia  received  from  the  peddler,  and  Ethel 


244  VALLEY  FORGE 

was  entertained  at  hearing  from  the  long-lost  mer- 
chant. 

That  peripatetic  was  making  across  the  fields  to 
the  Reeses,  well  knowing  that  Miss  Jennie  would 
require  some  of  his  finery. 

Mr.  Samuel  Jones  came  home  before  nightfall, 
and  embraced  his  daughter  with  fond  pride, 
although  he  had  never  given  full  consent  to  her 
service  of  love.  But  both  he  and  his  wife  wore  an 
anxious  expression,  that  each  perceived  in  the  other, 
but  of  which  nothing  was  said  until  privacy  per- 
mitted the  exchange  of  feeling  and  opinion ;  and 
then  it  was  the  father  who  suggested,  "Frances  does 
not  look  well." 

"It  may  be  that  she  is  merely  pale  from  long  con- 
finement in  the  sick  room  without  exercise," 
answered  Mrs.  Jones;  "but  still  I  fear  that  some- 
thing is  wrong."  And  the  mother's  eyes  filled  with 
tears. 

"Cheer  up,  wife,"  said  the  good  man,  "she  has 
suffered  a  great  strain,  but  we  will  make  her  go  out 
and  visit  her  friends  and  take  long  rides,  and  her 
color  will  change  when  she  gets  the  sun/' 

But  Mrs.  Jones — for  women  are  more  intuitive 
than  their  husbands  and  brothers — had  noticed 
something  amiss  throughout  the  winter,  and,  more- 
over, she  was  pretty  sure  she  could  put  her  finger 
on  the  cause;  but  being  a  wise  woman,  as  one  might 
expect  Frances's  mother  to  be,  she  remained  mute. 

Calm  and  steady  as  Frances  was,  her  service  had 
proved  a  great  tension ;  and  now  that  she  was  back 
again  in  her  beloved  home,  in  the  shelter  of  the 


A  VALLEY  OF  HUMILIATION  245 

South  Valley  Hill,  and  in  the  lee  of  Mount  Airy, 
the  brooklet  flowing  through  the  yard,  the  spring 
effervescing  in  its  sandy  bed,  and  the  orchard  sweet 
with  its  fresh  blossoms,  she  was  overcome  with  the 
restfulness  of  home ;  and  that  night  in  her  own  little 
room  that  looked  out  on  the  orchard,  and  beyond  it 
to  the  southern  ridge,  she  felt  so  weary  that  she 
scarcely  noticed  the  fleeting  constellations  that 
lingered  last  of  all  of  the  winter  host  now  fast 
sweeping  away  to  the  southwest,  before  she  sank 
to  rest. 

That  same  night  Ethel  seemed  very  wakeful. 
Her  restlessness  was  apparent  to  Havard,  who 
could  not  discern  its  cause.  She  was  unusually 
quiet,  yet  he  fancied  that  she  had  something  to  com- 
municate. Still  he  said  nothing  to  evoke  remark, 
being  himself  absorbed  in  busy  thought.  But  after 
quite  an  interval  she  crept  up  to  his  side,  lightly 
leaned  her  head  upon  his  shoulder,  and  gently  patted 
his  cheek,  while  sobs  shook  her  frame.  Surprised 
at  her  action,  Havard  quickly  gathered  her  into  his 
arms,  and,  kissing  the  caressing  hand,  tenderly 
inquired  the  cause  of  her  distress. 

He  always  remembered  the  startling  impression 
of  her  reply.  It  was  some  moments  before  Ethel 
could  command  herself  sufficiently  to  pronounce  the 
words,  but  between  her  sobs  she  finally  managed 
to  say:  "Dear  Havard,  I  am  not  worthy  of  you. 
I  have  never  been  to  you  what  you  deserve.  Your 
love  has  been  so  rich,  and  mine  so  poor.  How  could 
you  ever  give  me  such  affection,  when  I  lack  so 
much?" 


246  VALLEY  FORGE 

Havard  did  his  utmost  to  soothe  her,  but  nothing 
that  he  could  say  availed.  He  presumed  that  weak- 
ness and  nervelessness  had  induced  lovvness  of 
spirits;  but  she  responded  to  all  his  well-meant 
assurances  that  her  expressions  were  not  the  impulse 
of  the  hour,  but  rather  the  deep-set  convictions  of 
the  last  few  weeks. 

"Dear  Havard,"  she  said,  with  a  sweetness  of 
tone  he  had  never  before  observed  in  her  conversa- 
tion, and  with  a  depth  of  affection  that  seemed 
entirely  new,  "only  since  I  have  known  Frances 
Jones  have  I  come  to  understand  what  I  ought  to  be 
in  character.  God  knows  there  is  a  great  gap 
between  mine  and  that  of  that  lovely  girl.  I  think, 
though,  that  she  has  taught  me  the  secret  of  love. 
I  often  wonder,  Havard,"  she  proceeded,  "why  you 
never  sought  her  for  your  wife,  when  you  knew  her 
so  well.  I  know  that  she  could  have  given  you 
to  the  full  the  love  that  so  noble  a  husband 
deserves." 

There  was  such  plaintiveness  in  Ethel's  tones, 
such  unselfish  love  and  tenderness,  that  Havard  was 
overcome.  It  was  his  turn  to  stroke  a  face  he  could 
not  see,  and  press  with  manly  strength  a  weak  form 
to  his  bosom.  His  chin  trembled,  and  his  lips 
refused  their  office,  while  tears  freely  bathed  his 
cheeks.  The  impulse  to  tell  Ethel  all  his  former 
musings  was  strong.  It  seemed  to  him  that  it  was 
his  duty  to  make  a  confession  of  all  his  thoughts. 
The  paroxysm  of  grief  his  wife  had  exhibited,  and 
above  all  her  loving,  self-abnegating  words,  had 
pierced  his  very  soul,  and  made  him  appear  mean 


A  VALLEY  OF  HUMILIATION  247 

beyond  all  description.  He  loathed  himself  as  he 
reflected  upon  his  vacillations.  Yet,  was  it  wisest 
to  reveal  his  shortcomings  ? 

Condemned  as  Havard  felt,  he  yet  perceived  that 
a  confession  of  all  his  imaginings  must  only  confer 
exquisite  pain  upon  Ethel,  and  that  while  the  relief 
he  might  secure  to  himself  would  be  great  it  would 
be  a  species  of  selfishness  to  attain  it  at  the  expense 
of  his  wife.  He  could  truthfully  assure  her  of  his 
deep  affection,  for  he  had  never  loved  her  so  ardently 
before,  even  when  he  called  her,  in  the  bliss  of  his 
wedding  day,  his  "very  own." 

Whatever  philosophers  and  moralizers  may  say 
in  criticism,  Havard  never  regretted  his  disobedience 
to  his  first  impulse ;  and  in  the  evening  time  of  life, 
when  the  shadows  grew  deep  about  him,  he  felt 
comforted  to  remember  that  he  had  only  folded  his 
wife  closer,  kissed  away  her  accusations  of  herself, 
and  overwhelmed  her  with  love. 

And  he  succeeded  in  his  consolations.  Expres- 
sions of  relief  fell  from  her  lips,  expressions  of  hope 
and  joy,  a  sweet  murmur  of  happiness  and  peace.  It 
was  a  new  Ethel  that  was  born  on  that  memorable 
night,  a  woman  transformed  by  love. 

Well  aware  that  such  excitement  was  perilous  to 
the  weak  form  that  rested  beside  him,  Havard  strove 
to  tranquilize  Ethel,  and  induce  her  to  resign  herself 
to  slumber.  But  it  was  long  before  she  ceased  to 
talk,  and  Havard  never  knew  whether  or  not  she 
was  asleep  when  his  own  eyelids  refused  longer  to 
be  on  guard ;  for  when  the  morning  broke  she  still 
lay  with  her  cheek  against  his  breast  and  her  hand 


248  VALLEY  FORGE 

resting  upon  his  face,  but  both  so  cold  that  Havard 
started  upon  realizing  the  touch. 

A  nameless  dread  possessed  him  as  he  hurriedly 
examined  the  form  that  lay  so  still.  It  could  not  be, 
he  thought,  and  yet  it  was — death!  Lightly  he 
touched  the  white  brow  with  his  lips;  fondly  he 
kissed  those  pale  portals  of  speech  that  but  a  few 
hours  previously  had  uttered  such  gracious  words. 
But  they  were  unresponsive,  and  in  his  agony  Ha- 
vard recognized  that  Ethel's  heart  had  ceased  to 
beat. 

A  piteous  cry  brought  his  mother  into  the  room, 
and  Havard's  worst  fears  were  confirmed.  Mrs. 
Brown  was  shocked  inexpressibly;  for  Ethel's  sick- 
ness had  rapidly  matured  motherly  love,  and  the 
suddenness  of  the  event  bore  heavily  upon  her.  But 
it  was  the  living  that  now  seriously  claimed  the 
judicious  woman's  attention,  and  Havard  became  a 
boy  again,  while  his  mother  comforted  him  as  of 
old. 

Dr.  Potts  said  that  the  strain  of  illness  had  proved 
too  much  for  a  heart  that  was  constitutionally  weak, 
and  that  it  had  given  way  a  little  earlier,  perhaps, 
by  reason  of  some  unusual  stimulus,  but  that  under 
the  best  of  circumstances  it  was  probable  that  Ethel 
would  not  have  rallied. 

Sacred  grief  is  not  exempt  from  the  obtrusions  of 
duty.  Havard  was  compelled  to  think  of  the  burial 
of  his  wife.  Where  should  she  be  laid  away?  Why 
not  at  Saint  Peter's?  His  thoughts  ran  upon  their 
meeting  in  that  churchyard — not  for  the  first  time, 
but  on  the  day  when  love  awoke  in  his  heart.  Yes, 


A  VALLEY  OF  HUMILIATION  249 

it  was  fitting  that  she  should  be  buried  there.  And 
his  mother  was  wisely  willing,  although  to  her  the 
Eagle  or  the  Valley  Friends'  yard  seemed  more 
appropriate,  since  Havard,  through  herself,  was 
partly  of  Quaker  blood. 

The  preparations  for  a  funeral  at  that  early  day 
were  elaborate.  Cousin  Samuel  Havard  superin- 
tended the  notification  of  the  relatives  and  friends, 
sending  Abel  Reese  up  the  Valley,  and  Balsam 
Ringer  over  to  the  northward,  to  "warn"  the  people 
in  those  sections,  while  he  reserved  to  himself  the 
more  painful  duty  of  acquainting  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Thomson  with  the  sorrowful  tidings,  associating 
with  it — tell  it  not  in  the  modern  Gath — the  pur- 
chase of  certain  supplies  for  the  larder! 

But  he  took  home  from  the  grief-stricken  mother 
a  message  that  was  mournfully  grateful  to  Havard, 
to  the  effect  that  once,  while  speaking  of  burial 
places,  Ethel  had  expressed  a  wish  to  be  buried  at 
Saint  Peter's,  its  quiet  graveyard,  environed  with 
hills  and  guarded  by  the  Valley  ridges,  proving  to 
her  the  most  attractive  of  all  the  cemeteries  she  had 
visited. 

There  was  no  dearth  of  women  helpers  in  the 
house  of  mourning.  These  kindly  neighbors,  utiliz- 
ing the  materials  commonly  found  in  abundance  in 
well-to-do  farmhouses,  together  with  the  groceries 
procured  by  Cousin  Samuel,  made  extensive  prepa- 
rations for  the  entertainment  of  friends.  Much  of 
this  was  repugnant  to  the  feelings  of  Mrs.  Brown 
and  her  son,  but  both  were  particular  to  be  hospit- 
able, and  they  quietly  submitted  to  custom.  It  was 


250  VALLEY  FORGE 

not  a  light  luncheon,  but — publish  it  not  in  the  streets 
of  the  modern  Askelon — a  full  meal  of  roast  and 
boiled  meats,  fowls,  vegetables,  relishes,  pies,  and 
custards,  that  was  got  ready  against  the  funeral  day ; 
and  every  worker  found  her  time  fully  absorbed  in 
her  self-imposed  duties. 

Sunday  afternoon  at  two  had  been  selected  as 
the  hour  of  service.  By  that  time  a  large  number 
of  neighbors  and  friends,  together  with  the  relatives, 
were  gathered  at  the  Brown  homestead,  their  horses 
being  hitched  to  convenient  posts  or  trees,  while  the 
men  folk  stood  around  the  house  and  whittled  bits 
of  wood,  and  talked  about  crops  and  prospects,  as 
was  their  wont.  Yet  there  were  unmistakable  signs 
of  appreciation  of  the  suddenness  and  sadness  of 
the  event  that  had  brought  them  together,  and  of 
hearty  sympathy  with  a  favorite  neighbor.  The 
tearfulness  of  the  women  and  girls  was  eloquent  of 
their  interest  and  pity. 

An  unusual  solemnity  rested  upon  the  gathering 
when  Parson  Currie  began  the  burial  service,  the 
men  outside  coming  close  to  the  open  doors  and 
removing  their  hats.  The  rector  read  the  familiar 
sentences  with  impressiveness  and  feeling.  "I  am 
the  resurrection,  and  the  life:  he  that  believeth  in 
me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live !"  sounded 
thrillingly  in  all  ears,  but  especially  so  in  the  case 
of  the  nearest  mourner.  Lighthearted  Jennie 
Reese  and  Rebecca  Neilley  were  crying  in  a  cor- 
ner, and  the  eyes  of  their  young  companions  were 
not  dry.  The  psalm  and  the  New  Testament  lesson 
were  read  with  such  reverence  that  they  voiced  the 


A  VALLEY  OF  HUMILIATION  251 

aspirations  of  the  bereaved  hearts,  and  imparted  a 
measure  of  consolation. 

The  brief  discourse  which  followed  was  discrimi- 
nating and  practical.  Far  from  attempting  to  com- 
fort the  mourning  ones,  the  rector  admitted  the 
vanity  of  human  endeavor  in  such  a  direction,  and 
strove  but  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  divine  ministry. 
He  felt  such  a  keen  sense  of  Havard's  sorrow  that 
his  clerical  duty  was  flavored  with  personal  affection, 
and  laid  his  hearers  under  hearty  obligations. 

Then  occurred  the  pathetic  incident  of  the  last 
parting.  Serenely  beautiful  in  death,  Ethel's  face 
fascinated  all  who  surveyed  it.  The  scene  became 
a  Bochim  long  enough  before  the  parents  looked 
upon  their  child  in  final  farewell.  Havard  lingered 
last,  craving  each  moment  of  view,  and  unwilling  to 
give  up  his  dead.  But  presently  he  yielded  to  the 
old-fashioned  carpenter  and  undertaker,  who  stepped 
forward,  laid  the  lid  upon  the  coffin — a  grim  and 
forbidding  ancient  pattern  unsoftened  in  its  out- 
lines— screwed  it  into  place,  and  directed  the  pall- 
bearers to  transfer  the  sacred  burden  to  the  rude 
hearse.  Following  the  family  and  the  immediate 
relatives  came  the  neighbors. 

Travel  being  chiefly  by  horseback,  the  procession 
was  a  cavalcade,  which  moved  with  decorous  slow- 
ness toward  the  Swedes'  Ford  road,  and  up  that 
highway,  in  the  face  of  a  brilliant  sun.  Nature  had 
not  donned  her  mourning  robes,  but  there  were  few 
in  the  large  company  who  were  not  touched  with 
the  sadness  of  the  journey. 

The  grass  in  the  churchyard  was  already  tall. 


252  VALLEY  FORGE 

Bees  were  merrily  humming  about  the  tempting- 
sweets  that  grew  all  unmindful  of  death  in  the 
sacred  inclosure ;  and  the  birds  in  the  tree  tops  sang 
as  blithely  as  though  to  some  who  were  present  on 
that  peaceful  Sabbath  afternoon  the  heavens  were 
not  darkened. 

Friendly  hands  assisted  the  undertaker  to  lower 
the  coffin  into  its  narrow  cell.  Every  hat  was 
removed,  while  the  rector  read,  "Man  that  is  born 
of  a  woman  hath  but  a  short  time  to  live — " 
When  he  reached  the  sentences  of  the  committal 
the  sexton  and  gravedigger — an  old  man,  who  had 
known  Havard's  father  when  a  boy — stooped  and 
picked  up  some  of  the  red,  gravelly  soil,  and  at  the 
words,  "Earth  to  earth,  ashes  to  ashes,  dust  to  dust !" 
dropped  it  softly  upon  the  coffin.  Then  followed  the 
prayer  and  benediction — and  all  was  over,  save  the 
filling  of  the  grave  accompanied  with  the  harrowing 
thud  of  clods  and  stones  that  fell  upon  the  coffin 
lid. 

There  were  subdued  social  greetings  in  the 
churchyard  for  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  and  then,  in 
response  to  a  well-understood  custom,  the  majority 
of  the  friends  returned  to  the  house  to  "partake  of 
refreshments."  Incongruous  as  it  certainly  seems, 
the  dismal  loneliness  of  the  hours  immediately  suc- 
ceeding the  interment  was  somewhat  lessened  by 
the  diversion  of  a  chatting  company  that  talked  of 
anything  but  death.  Besides,  the  simple  country 
folk  cherished  such  pronounced  views  of  hospitality, 
and  were  so  rigid  in  their  adherence  to  long-estab- 
lished usage  that  they  would  have  been  wounded 


A  VALLEY  OF  HUMILIATION  253 

at  the  non-observance  of  this  familiar  feature  of  a 
funeral,  and  perhaps  would  have  resented  the 
fancied  slight. 

It  was  a  sad,  sad  day  for  Havard ;  yet  the  bitter- 
ness was  tempered  with  sweetness.  His  sorrow  was 
deep,  but  it  was  mingled  with  the  joy  of  his  last 
recollections  of  Ethel.  The  interval  since  her  death 
had  not  been  unimproved,  and  clearer  views  of  life 
had  been  vouchsafed  him.  He  was  learning  to  appre- 
ciate the  commodities  of  the  world  at  their  true  value 
— both  the  gold  and  the  tinsel — and  there  had 
sprung  up  in  his  soul  a  confidence  that  henceforth  he 
should  walk  in  a  diviner  light. 

Mrs.  Brown  proved  very  precious  to  her  son  in  his 
darkest  hours.  Her  presence  and  manner,  even  more 
than  her  words,  which  were  few  but  judicious, 
strengthened  and  comforted  him.  Next  to  her  per- 
haps he  valued  Mrs.  Mercy  Jones,  who  with  her  hus- 
band spoke  consolatory  words,  and  gently  pressed  his 
hand  at  parting.  Frances  was  unable  to  attend  the 
funeral,  but  Havard  knew  that  her  sympathetic  heart 
did  not  lack  in  respect  of  pity. 

Ethel's  parents  consented  to  remain  a  day  or  two 
in  the  bereaved  home,  and  their  presence  was  grate- 
ful to  the  Browns,  dulling  slightly  the  edge  of  their 
grief.  But  when  they  were  gone  an  unutterable 
loneliness  afflicted  Havard,  for  the  house  seemed  so 
vacant  and  quiet ! 


CHAPTER    XXI 
A    MAY    MEDLEY 

THE  miracle  month  opened  in  the  Great  Valley 
with  one  of  its  pristine  transformation  scenes.  Blos- 
soms garnished  the  orchards  with  their  dainty  fab- 
rics, and  exhaled  a  fragrance  surpassing  the  trophies 
of  the  perfumer's  art.  The  wan  and  wasted  soldiers 
marshaled  upon  the  summit  of  Mount  Joy  and  its 
supporting  hills  took  new  courage  and  heart,  and 
forgot  the  iciness  of  the  past  winter  in  the  warm 
breath  of  Maia.  From  the  four-petaled  white  blos- 
soms of  the  dogwood  of  the  forest  to  the  snowy 
viburnums  and  swelling  thyrses  of  the  lilacs  in  good 
housewives'  yards,  that  later  burst  into  odorous 
bloom,  forest  and  field  and  garden  were  arrayed  in 
bridal  costume,  in  anticipation  of  the  coming  of  the 
sky  groom,  already  tremulous  with  eagerness, 
though  still  measurably  distant.  But  the  crowning 
witchery  was  the  exquisite  shade  of  the  vernal 
green! 

The  spirits  of  the  patriotic  people  of  the  country 
were  revived  with  the  resurrected  vigor  of  the  sea- 
son, and  this  was  augmented  by  cheering  news  from 
over  the  sea.  Franklin  and  his  coadjutors  had  at 
last  succeeded  in  negotiating  a  treaty  with  France, 
and  henceforth  the  banners  of  the  fleur-de-lis 
might  be  expected  to  wave  in  battle  by  the  side  of 

254 


A  MAY  MEDLEY  255 

the  stars  and  stripes.  It  was  as  though  the  sun 
had  suddenly  shone  out  of  heavy  banks  of  mist, 
and  the  foggy  envelope  was  vanishing  with  the 
quickness  of  magic.  General  Knox's  eyes  sparkled 
with  pleasure  as  he  informed  Havard  Brown  one 
evening  that  he  should  hear  a  chorus  next  day  from 
the  deep  bass  voices  of  his  dogs  of  war ;  and  at  nine 
in  the  morning  the  heroes  of  the  hills  paraded  with 
an  alacrity  to  which  they  had  been  strangers  since 
the  previous  autumn.  The  brigade  chaplains  evinced 
unusual  fire  as  they  addressed  their  martial  congre- 
gations, but  Parson  David  Jones  seemed  inspired  as 
he  flamed  upon  his  cherished  theme  of  loyalty  to 
liberty  at  the  head  of  Wayne's  Pennsylvania  Line. 

At  ten  a  solitary  gun  in  the  Artillery  Park 
sounded,  and  the  entire  army  grounded  arms  after 
loading.  An  hour  and  a  half  later  the  signal  was 
repeated,  the  soldiers  marched  to  their  alarm  posts, 
and  the  modest,  patient  man,  whose  military  fame 
was  to  grow  side  by  side  with  that  of  his  moral 
excellence  and  statesmanship,  reviewed  his  faithful 
troops  as  they  stood  in  two  lines.  From  the  extreme 
right  of  the  front  line  he  moved  to  its  extreme  left  ; 
then,  ranging  along  the  rear  line  from  left  to  right, 
he  stepped  upon  an  elevation  in  the  background  and 
gave  the  signal  for  a  feu  de  joie.  Thirteen  pieces 
of  cannon  thundered  forth  a  salute  to  the  treaty,  and 
from  right  to  left  of  the  front  line  ran  a  fire  of 
musketry,  immediately  followed  by  the  similar  fire 
of  the  rear  line  from  left  to  the  right ;  and  then  once 
more  the  metallic  throats  of  Knox's  command 
sounded  in  honor  of  French  assistance.  Then  the 


256  VALLEY  FORGE 

salute  was  repeated.  After  the  return  of  the  bri- 
gades to  their  encampments  the  day  was  given  over 
to  jollity  and  such  feasting  as  the  camp  cuisine  could 
afford,  the  general  officers  dining  with  Washington. 

This  was  on  the  sixth  of  May.  Two  days  later 
Sir  Henry  Clinton  arrived  at  Philadelphia  with 
orders  to  relieve  Howe,  and  the  following  day  the 
event  was  known  in  the  quiet  retreat  of  Valley 
Forge.  In  the  city  on  the  Delaware  there  ensued 
an  immediate  stir,  for  the  admirers  of  Howe  deter- 
mined to  send  away  their  late  commander  in  a 
blaze  of  glory,  and  commenced  elaborate  prepara- 
tions for  the  event.  Mrs.  Thomson  often  told  of  the 
doings,  including  the  gorgeous  decoration  of  the 
Wharton  mansion  near  the  Swedes'  church.  At 
half  past  four  of  the  afternoon  of  the  eighteenth  a 
regatta  started  from  Knight's  wharf  near  Vine 
Street,  consisting  of  galleys  and  flat  boats  hand- 
somely embellished  with  flags  and  decorative  stuffs, 
containing  high  officers  and  representative  Phila- 
delphia beauties.  The  river  was  full  of  boats,  and 
these  would  have  seriously  interfered  with  the  per- 
formance had  not  official  barges  warned  them  to 
keep  at  a  distance.  Multitudes  upon  the  shores 
witnessed  the  river  parade ;  and  the  men-of-war,  at 
anchor  in  the  stream,  literally  covered  with  flags  and 
streamers,  saluted  the  regatta  with  numerous 
sulphurous  discharges. 

The  shore  pageant  was  quite  magnificent  in  the 
eyes  of  the  spectators,  and  illustrated  Captain 
Andre's  spectacular  ingenuity.  This  part  of  the 
"Mischianza."  or  "Medley."  exhausted  the  resources 


A  MAY  MEDLEY  257 

of  the  occasion.  A  grand  avenue  lined  with  troops 
and  bounded  by  two  triumphal  arches  invited  the 
Howes  to  advance;  and  the  admiral  and  the  general 
marched  at  the  head  of  their  coterie,  attended  by  the 
"Knights  of  the  Blended  Rose,"  and  those  of  the 
"Burning  Mountain,"  while  maidens  arrayed  in 
Turkish  habit  smiled  upon  their  squires. 

A  tournament  followed,  in  which  the  knights 
strove  desperately  with  swords  and  spears  and 
pistols;  but  in  the  nick  of  danger  they  were  com- 
manded by  their  fair  ladies  to  desist,  whereupon 
to  merry  music  they  gayly  marched  to  the  garden 
of  the  mansion  and  the  hall  of  entertainment,  and 
amid  festoonings  and  flowers,  and  flashing  reflec- 
tions from  nearly  a  hundred  mirrors,  they  ate  and 
drank  until  ten,  when  fireworks  illumined  the  sky. 
At  midnight  a  saloon,  splendidly  adorned,  received 
the  favored  guests  possessing  cards  of  admission, 
which  were  graven  with  a  vignette  inclosing  a 
shield  that  displayed  the  setting  sun,  and  banners 
and  other  insignia  of  war.  Black  slaves  in  Oriental 
dresses,  wearing  silver  collars  and  bracelets,  minis- 
tered to  the  wants  of  the  company,  who  feasted 
amid  harmonious  strains  of  music,  and  afterward 
danced  until  the  dawn. 

Mr.  Heinrich  Kichenheim,  like  another  Lazarus, 
ate  the  crumbs  that  fell  from  the  rich  man's  table. 
He  must  have  enjoyed  them  exceedingly,  for  he 
smacked  his  lips  decidedly  more  than  once  during 
the  evening.  Then,  strange  to  say,  instead  of  linger- 
ing about  the  kitchen  where  he  was  so  well  fed,  he 
industriously  set  forth  with  his  pack  for  the  sparsely 


258  VALLEY  FORGE 

settled  rural  region  along  the  Schuylkill.  By  morn- 
ing he  was  far  on  his  way. 

This  time,  however,  he  did  not  tarry  long  at  the 
few  houses  that  claimed  his  attention,  but  showed 
an  unusual  desire  to  make  headway  in  his  journey. 
When  not  under  the  direct  observation  of  anyone 
the  peddler  straightened  up  under  his  load  as  though 
it  were  but  light,  and  hastened  onward  at  high 
speed;  in  truth,  an  examination  of  the  pack  would 
have  disclosed  the  fact  that  its  contents  were  exceed- 
ingly bulky  but  remarkably  lacking  in  weight. 

When  at  a  fair  distance  from  the  British  environs 
Heinrich  did  not  call  anywhere,  but  marched  rapidly 
over  the  neutral  ground,  until  he  entered  the  Ameri- 
can lines  at  Rebel  Hill  or  slightly  beyond.  The 
sentinels  jested  with  him  about  the  hurry  that 
characterized  him,  merely  to  gain  a  few  dollars ;  and 
circumstances  seemed  to  warrant  their  gibes,  for  he 
was  profusely  perspiring,  the  day  being  of  an 
ordinary  summer  temperature. 

Perhaps  the  quality  of  goods  in  the  well-worn 
pack  was  unusually  fine;  for  the  peddler  made  his 
way  up  the  Gulph  road  to  the  general  headquarters 
and  insisted  with  the  guard  upon  showing  his  stock 
to  his  Excellency.  But  the  real  wonder  was  that  the 
grave  chieftain  was  willing  to  examine  the  fabrics. 
The  guard  thought,  a  half  hour  afterward,  when  the 
peddler  withdrew,  that  his  eloquence  had  been 
expended  in  vain,  for  the  pack  had  not  visibly 
shrunk  in  size  as  the  result  of  the  interview.  But 
he  forgot  the  peddler  entirely  in  his  surprise  at  the 
subsequent  appearance  of  a  squad  under  the  com- 


A  MAY  MEDLEY  259 

mand  of  Colonel  Hamilton,  accompanied  by  an  aid 
in  civilian  dress,  that  marched  resolutely  out  along 
the  creek. 

It  was  obvious  from  the  manner  of  the  party  that 
something  of  importance  was  on  foot,  but  the  curi- 
osity of  the  guard  was  not  gratified  by  the  discovery 
of  its  purpose.  When  they  arrived  at  the  site  of  the 
burnt  forge  the  colonel  halted  his  men  and  divided 
them  into  two  parties,  instructing  those  of  one  divi- 
sion to  be  subject  to  the  orders  of  his  aid  and  to  ren- 
der implicit  obedience.  The  rest  proceeded  with 
him  up  the  path  in  the  direction  of  Havard  Brown's, 
while  the  civilian  led  his  men  up  the  steep  ravine  to 
the  west  of  the  creek,  and  over  Mount  Misery.  The 
first  detachment  worked  its  way  across  the  country 
at  fair  speed,  notwithstanding  the  frequent  bits  of 
woodland  and  marsh  that  it  encountered,  until  it 
arrived  at  a  farmhouse  nestling  in  a  dell  on  the 
banks  of  Valley  Creek,  a  mile  or  less  above  the  house 
occupied  by  General  Lafayette.  Not  quite  so  soon, 
possibly,  and  yet  but  little  behind  these,  arrived 
their  companions  in  arms  who  took  the  hill  route, 
but  these  tarried  in  the  timber  without  disclosing 
their  presence  except  by  a  secret  sign  to  Colonel 
Hamilton. 

The  house,  which  was  that  of  David  Havard,  a 
second  cousin  to  Havard  Brown,  served  as  head- 
quarters for  General  Charles  Lee,  and  was  also 
tenanted  by  Thomas  Bradford,  of  the  commissary 
department.  The  general  was  quite  surprised  at 
an  afternoon  call  of  such  a  character,  and  his  wonder 
increased  when  he  was  informed  of  the  object  of  the 


26o  VALLEY  FORGE 

visit.  By  his  permission  Colonel  Hamilton  made 
a  strict  search  of  the  house,  but  without  satisfactory 
result,  and  then  turned  his  attention  to  the  barn. 
The  most  careful  investigation  failed  to  develop  any 
discovery  of  moment,  although  a  dark  corner  of  the 
mow,  situated  under  the  eaves,  and  unlikely  to  be 
disturbed  by  the  farmer's  man,  looked  as  though  it 
had  recently  afforded  a  retreat  for  somebody.  All 
the  outbuildings  were  likewise  examined  without 
success,  and  the  colonel  was  about  to  vent  his 
disappointment  in  a  grumble  or  two  about  the  lack 
of  accuracy  upon  the  part  of  "these  civilians,"  when 
a  shout  from  one  of  his  men  drew  him  to  the  spring- 
house. 

Private  Andrew  Gardiner  was  perfectly  acquainted 
with  the  well-watered  farm  that  lay  so  snugly 
beneath  the  North  Valley  Hill,  and  many  a  draught 
had  he  obtained  from  the  never-failing  spring  that 
supplied  the  farmer's  kitchen.  The  day  was  warm, 
as  we  have  shown ;  and  Gardiner,  being  athirst, 
stepped  familiarly  into  the  little  stone  structure  that 
inclosed  the  spring,  and  dipped  a  cup  into  the  pellu- 
cid pool  at  his  feet.  Again  and  again  did  he  quaff 
the  cool  water,  ruminating  the  meanwhile  upon  his 
early  days  and  his  associations  with  the  farm.  For 
a  few  moments  he  sat  upon  the  stone  at  the  door, 
looking  around  at  the  rough  whitewashed  walls, 
when,  letting  his  gaze  rest  upon  the  overhanging 
shelf,  he  thought  he  observed  a  peculiar  reflection 
coming  through  a  wide  crack  between  two  boards. 

Perhaps  the  average  man  would  not  have  given 
heed  to  the  circumstance,  but  Andrew  Gardiner  was 


A  MAY  MEDLEY  261 

to  teach  in  years  to  come  in  the  "Eagle"  schoolhouse, 
where  he  was  accustomed  to  illustrate  to  his  various 
classes  the  value  of  an  observant  habit  by  the  events 
which  succeeded.  The  recollection  of  the  errand 
upon  which  the  detachment  was  engaged  may  have 
keyed  his  curiosity,  but  at  all  events  he  determined 
to  examine  into  the  circumstance  more  closely.  It 
might  have  been  a  bit  of  glass  or  glazed  ware  that 
sent  back  some  tiny  beams  of  light  that  the  sun 
flashed  into  the  little  stone  house,  and  which  were 
reflected  by  the  pool,  but  it  was  not ;  for  when  Gar- 
diner rose  to  his  feet  and  looked  still  closer  at  the 
phenomenon  it  ceased,  and  a  human  eye — the  sec- 
ondary mirror — that  quite  comprehended  the  pur- 
pose, although  not  understanding  the  occasion, 
reported  to  a  wily  brain  the  imminent  danger  that 
had  already  been  observed  and  thus  far  ingeniously 
avoided.  Then  a  human  form  dropped  down  upon 
Gardiner  with  such  energy,  unexpected  as  the 
assault  was,  that  the  soldier  could  only  snatch  at  the 
obtruder  and  cry  out,  while  the  very  person  of  whom 
the  party  was  in  search  broke  away  abruptly  and 
ran  for  the  forest. 

Hamilton  and  his  band  comprehended  all  that 
was  necessary  when  they  saw  the  fugitive,  and  they 
hastened  after  him.  But  fear  lent  wings  to  the 
hunted  man,  and  he  sped  through  the  Valley  Creek 
well  in  advance  of  his  pursuers.  The  colonel  did 
not  seem  willing  to  order  a  fire  upon  his  person, 
but  directed  one  of  his  men  to  discharge  his  piece 
in  the  air,  while  the  remainder  kept  up  the  pursuit. 

The    friendly    shade   of    the    forest    was    now 


262  VALLEY  FORGE 

extended  to  the  panting  .stranger,  who  fled  from 
Hamilton  and  his  followers.  He  wondered  why 
more  shots  were  not  fired,  and  congratulated  himself 
on  his  escape  from  a  bullet,  while  yet  he  shuddered 
at  a  dark  reason  that  suggested  itself.  But  above 
all  he  ran,  and  had  just  scaled  the  last  fence  that 
bounded  the  farm  on  the  north,  with  a  growing  feel- 
ing of  exultation  at  the  prospect  of  evading  capture, 
when  right  in  his  path  uprose  several  uniformed 
men,  who  quietly  surrounded  him ;  and  he  half 
fell,  half  ran  into  the  arms  of  a  civilian,  whom  he 
recognized  at  the  same  instant  that  his  own  fea- 
tures impressed  themselves  upon  his  captor's 
brain. 

"I'm  sorry,"  said  Colonel  Dewees,  for  it  was  he 
who  had  led  the  second  detachment,  "but  it  is  my 
duty  to  arrest  you." 

The  prisoner  was  ashy  pale,  for  he  now  compre- 
hended why  he  was  not  fired  upon ;  and  he  did  not 
even  deem  it  advisable  to  ask  the  reason  for  his 
apprehension.  He  perceived  the  futility  of  any 
further  attempt  at  escape,  and  walked  on  quietly, 
but  not  until  Hamilton  had  made  sure  of  him  by 
manacles.  Then,  indeed,  did  he  inquire  the  meaning 
of  such  harsh  usage,  to  which  Hamilton  responded 
not  unkindly,  but  solemnly,  and  in  tones  that  carried 
no  hope  to  the  prisoner,  "Because  you  are  charged 
with  being  a  spy." 

The  squad  returned  past  Havard  Brown's; 
and  the  young  farmer,  observing  that  something 
extraordinary  was  transpiring,  scrutinized  the 
group.  The  prisoner  bowed  his  head  as  he  passed 


A  MAY  MEDLEY  263 

Havard,  but  the  latter  saw  with  awe  that  the 
shackled  man  was  Will  Tryon! 

The  hiding  place  of  this  misguided  man,  and 
persistent  Tory  spy,  was  the  crumb  that  the  peddler 
picked  up  under  the  table  of  the  Mischianza.  The 
itinerant  merchant,  like  some  of  his  fellow  trades- 
men, was  in  the  Continental  service,  and  ran  an 
enormous  risk  in  the  prosecution  of  his  patriotic 
duty.  He  had  been  on  the  track  of  Tryon  for  several 
months,  and  had  furnished  information  upon  which 
Dewees  had  nearly  caught  the  elusive  spy;  and  his 
haste  after  the  famous  Medley  was  due  to  his  desire 
to  secure  the  fellow  before  he  could  vacate  the  hid- 
ing place  he  had  just  been  reliably  informed  he  was 
occupying.  Yet  it  was  the  merest  accident  that 
brought  him  to  bay. 

A  court-martial  was  promptly  held.  The  evidence 
was  overwhelming,  and  within  twenty-four  hours 
a  primitive  and  grim  scaffold  erected  under  a  tree 
near  the  Artillery  Park  told  the  gloomy  story  of 
military  reprisal,  while  a  little  later  a  human  body 
was  buried  in  a  lonely  spot  near  by,  apart  from  the 
unmarked  graves  of  the  gallant  men  who  had  given 
their  lives  for  their  country  in  succumbing  to 
disease. 

It  was  whispered  that  British  dominion  in  the 
City  of  Brotherly  Love  was  drawing  to  a  close. 
The  signs  of  approaching  evacuation  were  growing 
positive  and  numerous.  Foraging  parties  went 
hither  and  thither  between  the  Delaware  and  the 
Schuylkill;  a  party  dispatched  up  the  Delaware 
burned  a  large  number  of  small  ships;  stores  were 


264  VALLEY  FORGE 

captured  and  loss  of  life  inflicted.  Washington 
determined  to  be  upon  the  alert  for  whatever  favor- 
able opportunity  might  offer,  and  ordered  the  youth- 
ful Lafayette  to  cross  the  Schuylkill  with  a  force 
of  some  two  thousand  troops  and  five  cannon.  The 
very  day  of  the  Mischianza  the  marquis  led  his  little 
army  to  Barren  Hill,  and  encamped  about  Saint 
Peter's  Lutheran  Church — a  fortress  in  itself — 
and  stationed  his  artillery  on  the  adjacent  elevations. 

But  it  was  at  the  house  of  a  recreant  citizen  that 
Lafayette  established  his  headquarters,  and  this 
Tory  immediately  caused  Clinton  to  be  informed  of 
the  movement.  The  next  night  five  thousand  choice 
troops  under  Grant  and  Erskine  marched  toward 
Frankford,  turned  to  the  left  through  White  Marsh, 
and  passed  to  the  Swedes'  Ford  in  the  rear  of  the 
[Americans ;  while  Grey  led  a  strong  force  across  the 
river,  and  halted  some  distance  below  a  point 
opposite  Barren  Hill,  and  Clinton  marched  another 
part  of  his  army  through  Germantown  to  attack 
Lafayette  in  front. 

It  required  brilliant  maneuvering  upon  the  part 
of  the  marquis  to  avoid  the  toils  of  the  enemy,  but 
his  strategy  and  the  gallant  McLane's  vigilance  and 
energy  ensured  success.  Lafayette  was  arranging 
with  a  young  lady  of  the  neighborhood  to  go  to 
Philadelphia  to  procure  information  while  visiting 
her  friends,  when  an  intimation  of  the  presence  of 
scarlet  uniforms  in  the  woods  near  White  Marsh 
was  brought  to  him.  He  perceived  the  danger  of 
being  surrounded,  for  the  road  by  which  he  had 
come  from  Valley  Forge  was  already  in  the  posses- 


A  MAY  MEDLEY  265 

sion  of  the  enemy.  To  deceive  them  for  a  while, 
until  he  could  hurry  his  troops  to  Matson's  Ford, 
was  now  his  object;  and  he  conducted  the  retreat 
with  such  skill  that  he  escaped  to  the  other  side  with 
a  loss  of  fewer  than  a  dozen  men,  in  the  skirmish 
that  ensued  at  the  river. 

High  on  the  hills  above  the  Forge  stood  Wash- 
ington, anxiously  awaiting  developments.  Barren 
Hill  was  in  full  view  a  dozen  miles  away,  and  the 
alarm  guns  of  the  morning  had  made  him  expectant. 
Great  was  his  joy  when  his  young  companion  in 
arms  marched  his  men  safely  into  camp,  while 
the  cheers  of  the  soldiers  in  generous  greeting  to 
their  imperiled  comrades  were  hearty  and  prolonged. 

Residence  upon  the  heights  bordering  upon  the 
Schuylkill  was  pleasant  enough  now  for  those  who 
had  suffered  so  keenly  during  the  winter ;  yet  there 
was  a  quiver  of  expectancy  in  the  camp  after 
Lafayette's  encounter  with  Clinton.  The  days  were 
too  precious  to  be  wasted,  and  still  the  British  general 
seemed  in  no  haste  to  be  gone.  Washington  was 
prepared  to  harass  him,  if  nothing  more,  upon  his 
venturing  out  of  his  well-fortified  camp,  and 
anxiously  awaited  the  opportunity.  The  countryside 
partook  in  some  degree  of  the  feeling  of  the  army, 
and  all  looked  forward  to  the  results  which  might 
be  anticipated  from  the  alliance  with  France. 

The  weeks  passed  slowly  under  such  nervous 
tension,  and  June  came  and  dispensed  its  benedic- 
tions. The  early  fruits  gladdened  the  hearts  of  house- 
keepers, while  the  meadows  and  grainfields  cheered 
the  men  of  the  Valley  with  prospects  of  an  abun- 


266  VALLEY  FORGE 

dance  of  hay  and  cereals.  Havard  Brown,  who  had 
been  busied  in  May  preparing  his  corn  ground,  saw 
with  satisfaction  the  growth  of  the  thrifty  shoots. 
His  mother  noted  this  awaking  interest,  and  was 
glad;  for  she  perceived  that  nature's  remedies  for 
minds  diseased  were  beginning  to  slowly  assert 
themselves. 

It  was  a  great  day  in  the  Valley  when,  suddenly, 
the  tents  of  the  Continentals  were  struck,  and  Wash- 
ington's refreshed  and  reinforced  host  marched  forth 
to  active  duty.  Clinton  had  succeeded  in  concealing 
his  plans,  and  it  was  not  until  he  had  actually  crossed 
the  Delaware  at  Gloucester  that  the  patriot  com- 
mander comprehended  his  destination.  The  British 
general  had  contemplated  going  to  New  York  by 
sea,  but,  recollecting  Washington's  swift  movements 
in  the  past,  and  fearing  that  that  strategist  might 
anticipate  him  and  capture  the  future  metropolis,  he 
marched  his  men  across  the  Jerseys. 

It  was  the  eighteenth  of  June  when  the  move- 
ment began,  and  as  the  vanguard  crossed  the  river 
before  dawn  the  rearguard  was  safe  upon  the  eastern 
shore  by  ten  o'clock ;  so  the  same  night  saw  Clinton's 
men  encamped  at  Haddonfield. 

The  news  was  not  long  in  spreading  to  Valley 
Forge.  A  cool-headed  patriot  residing  in  the 
Quaker  City  shouted  the  tidings  across  the  Schuyl- 
kill,  that  there  might  be  no  delay,  and  George 
Roberts  galloped  to  the  Forge  with  the  welcome 
message.  At  once  the  Continentals  commenced  their 
march  across  Sullivan's  bridge.  Benedict  Arnold, 
still  suffering  from  his  Saratoga  wound,  was 


A  MAY  MEDLEY  267 

assigned  to  the  command  of  the  division  that  entered 
Philadelphia,  while  the  main  body  marched  rapidly 
toward  the  Delaware  at  a  more  northerly  point. 
Greene  and  Wayne  led  the  van,  while  the  remainder 
followed  in  two  days. 

It  seemed  incredible  to  their  citizen  neighbors  that 
the  army  had  removed,  but  the  hills  so  long  tenanted 
by  the  suffering  soldiers  were  absolutely  deserted. 

The  earthworks  and  the  huts  remained  intact, 
but  the  big  guns  were  wanting.  Perhaps  the  depar- 
ture of  the  soldiers  was  realized  most  in  those  house- 
holds from  which  the  general  officers  had  gone.  Few 
indeed  were  the  homes,  within  a  radius  of  two  or 
three  miles,  that  had  not  entertained  official  guests. 
The  majority  of  the  latter  were  of  high  character 
and  agreeable  manners,  conferring  social  benefits; 
still,  it  would  have  been  unnatural  if  this  involuntary 
entertainment  had  not  been  regarded  as  irksome, 
and  the  company  an  incubus;  and  there  was  an 
unequivocal  and  universal  sigh  of  relief  when  the 
army  crossed  the  Schuylkill,  and  hastened  after  its 
opponent  on  its  way  to  New  York. 

As  General  Knox  had  been  anticipating  for  weeks 
the  hour  of  removal,  his  effects  were  in  order  for 
instant  departure.  His  parting  remarks  as  well  as 
those  of  Mrs.  Knox,  were  appreciative  of  the  many 
kindnesses  of  the  Browns;  and  the  soldier's  lady 
presented  the  widow  with  acceptable  souvenirs. 
Then,  with  feeling  farewells  upon  the  part  of  both 
hosts  and  guests,  the  latter  quickly  passed  from 
view. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

AN  OVERFLOWING  CUP 

ON  the  afternoon  of  Friday,  the  day  after  the 
evacuation  of  the  encampment,  Mrs.  Brown  was 
busied  with  the  re-arrangement  of  furniture  in  the 
rooms  so  long  used  by  General  and  Mrs.  Knox. 
The  apartments  had  suffered  somewhat  in  appear- 
ance by  the  removal  of  their  temporary  occupants, 
for  Mrs.  Knox's  fine  taste  had  led  her  to  make  the 
best  of  the  meager  furnishings  that  army  life  per- 
mitted. 

Havard  had  gone  down  to  the  creekside,  to  wash 
some  wagon  wheels,  and  had  chosen  a  spot  beneath  a 
large  willow,  whose  shade  was  grateful.  Absorbed  in 
his  work,  he  did  not  observe  the  approach  of  any- 
one, and  was  startled  by  and  by  to  find  a  mounted 
visitor  in  front  of  him.  It  was  Mr.  Jones's  helper, 
Freeman. 

Havard  was  struck  with  his  melancholy  appear- 
ance. The  young  man  said  nothing  for  a  moment, 
but  looked  so  sad  that  Havard  inquired  if  anything 
were  wrong.  A  tear  stood  in  his  eye,  and  it  was 
several  moments  before  Freeman  could  say,  "Yes, 
Massa  Brown,  dere's  a  good  deal  de  matter.  Poor 
Missie  Frances  am  bery  sick,  'n  I  swan  I  don'  expec' 
dat  she'll  eber  get  well  'gain.  She  done  send  me  to 
tell  yo'  she  lake  for  to  see  yo'  dis  a'ternoon,  'n  for 
yo'  to  come  ober  wid  me.  But  Missus  Jones,  she 

268 


AN  OVERFLOWING  CUP  269 

tell  me  not  to  wait  for  yo' ;  but  to  come  right  home, 
'n  for  yo'  to  come  soon's  yo'  can  git  'way." 

A  sense  of  a  new  impending  calamity  was  upon 
Havard.  Ever  afterward  he  had  an  impression  as  of 
a  sudden  eclipse  of  the  sun — the  darkening,  at  least, 
of  his  mental  sky.  It  was  a  crushing  blow ;  for  the 
message,  combined  with  the  extraordinary  manner 
of  the  messenger,  hinted  the  very  worst.  He  could 
only  stammer  that  he  would  go  over  at  once,  and 
then  he  turned  away  toward  the  house.  He  felt 
physically  weak  while  climbing  the  slope  that  inter- 
vened, and  his  mother  was  amazed  at  the  pallor  of 
his  face  when  she  met  him  on  the  porch.  He  could 
scarcely  control  himself  to  inform  her  of  the  over- 
whelming tidings,  which  affected  her  almost  as 
much  as  himself ;  and  then,  telling  her  that  he  would 
go  to  see  Frances  without  delay,  he  hastened  up  the 
stairs  to  make  some  slight  changes  in  his  dress. 

Saladin  may  have  wondered  at  the  manner  of  his 
master  that  afternoon.  He  was  accustomed  to  his 
rider's  moods,  and  Havard  fancied  that  the  intelli- 
gent beast  even  sympathized  with  them.  But  Saladin 
had  never  borne  his  master  in  just  such  a  tumult  of 
feeling.  The  latter  now  saw  only  a  little  stone 
house  beneath  the  South  Valley  Hill,  and  a  face 
of  wondrous  fairness  and  sweetness;  and  he 
actually  urged  his  good  steed  to  greater  effort,  as 
he  sped  by  the  side  of  the  stream  and  up  the  hill 
toward  the  Swedes'  Ford  road. 

Freeman  had  preceded  Havard  but  a  few  minutes, 
and  had  accomplished  little  more  than  to  report  his 
reply  before  Saladin's  lathered  form  showed  at  the 


270  VALLEY  FORGE 

barnyard  gate,  when  the  boy  was  sent  to  care  for  the 
faithful  animal,  and  Mrs.  Jones  met  Havard  at  the 
door  of  the  house.  The  young  man  noticed  how 
careworn  and  frightened  she  appeared  as  she  drew 
him  into  a  chair  and  pointing  upward  whispered, 
"She's  very  low!"  Then  overcome  with  grief,  she 
buried  her  head  in  her  apron. 

The  strain  upon  Havard's  heart  was  too  great  to 
permit  the  relief  of  tears.  He  did  not  attempt  to 
speak,  but  helplessly  awaited  Mrs.  Jones's  fuller 
communication.  Anticipating  the  inquiries  he  would 
have  made,  she  presently  managed  to  tell  him  in 
broken  sentences  that  Frances  had  been  unwell  for 
several  weeks — she  did  not  say  since  her  return 
from  waiting  upon  Ethel;  she  delicately  forbore  to 
wound  him  by  such  an  allusion — but  that  a  collapse 
had  taken  place  unexpectedly,  within  the  last  day  or 
two,  so  alarming  to  them  all  that  they  did  not  need 
the  doctor's  guarded  intimation  that  it  might  prove 
fatal. 

Mrs.  Jones  further  explained  that  Frances  had 
been  lying  very  weak,  but  free  from  pain,  since  her 
breakdown,  and  that  she  had  expressed  a  wish  to 
have  Havard  come  over  and  see  her.  "I'm  so  glad 
you've  come,  Havard;  I'm  sure  it  will  do  her 
good.  I  think  she's  dreaming  of  the  old  days 
when  you  were  children  together;  for  she  smiles 
sometimes,  and  says  she  was  so  happy.  You  had 
better  go  up  now — she's  not  asleep.  Just  go  through 
the  room  overhead  to  the  front  one  that  looks  out  on 
the  orchard.  I'll  not  go  up  till  I  can  steady  myself 
a  little — O,  it's  too  hard,  too  hard !" 


AN  OVERFLOWING  CUP  271 

Havard  softly  ascended  the  steps,  and  gently 
rapped  at  the  door  leading  into  Frances's  room. 
"Come  in,"  said  a  voice  that  made  his  heart  chords 
vibrate,  though  it  was  exerted  very  feebly.  He 
stepped  into  the  room,  and,  turning  to  the  left 
saw  Frances  resting  on  her  pillow,  while  her  hand 
lay  helpless  on  the  counterpane.  Her  face  was 
indescribably  pale,  but  it  seemed  to  shine  with  a 
celestial  light,  and  a  faint  smile  played  about  the 
clear  eyes  that  had  so  often  haunted  him. 

It  was  a  mercy  that  the  fountain  of  tears  in  the 
strong  man's  head  was  unsealed  at  last.  It  seemed 
as  though  his  heart  would  burst  under  the  strain, 
but  drops  of  relief  flowed  freely  as  he  took  the 
wasted  hand  in  his  own  large  brown  ones,  and 
pressed  it  convulsively,  as  though  he  would  grind 
it  to  powder.  It  was  a  moment  of  revelation  to 
him ;  the  old-time  affection,  deeper  seated  than  ever 
he  had  understood,  beginning  in  the  intimacy  of 
childhood  and  expanding  with  the  years,  and  yet 
strangely  obscured  for  a  season  before  its  full  import 
was  comprehended  by  him,  was  coming  over  him  as 
a  flood;  and,  yielding  to  the  passionate  impulse  of 
the  moment — the  more  vehement  because  of  its 
utter  hopelessness — he  carried  the  hand  to  his  lips 
and  kissed  it  again  and  again.  Frances  was  too 
weak  to  resist,  yet  Havard  remembered  gratefully 
that  he  did  not  notice  even  a  feeble  negative  effort 
upon  her  part. 

It  was  at  a  climax  of  his  emotion  that,  unable  to 
restrain  himself  any  longer,  he  sank  upon  his  knees, 
and,  still  clasping  the  member  so  dear  to  him,  sob- 


272  VALLEY  FORGE 

bingly  exclaimed,  amid  a  rain  of  tears,  "O,  Frances, 
I  have  always  loved  you;  but  not  until  now  have  I 
known  how  much !" 

Intensity  of  utterance  was  gone  from  Frances, 
but  the  womanly  heart  felt  at  the  full  this  spontane- 
ous though  long-delayed  avowal  of  affection,  and  her 
eyes  were  moist  with  an  expression  of  tenderness 
and  love  that  Havard  rightly  interpreted. 

Under  the  pressure  of  varying  emotions,  he  said 
no  more  for  a  few  moments,  when  the  silence  was 
broken  by  Frances,  who  said  in  staccato,  and  in  a 
tone  so  low  that  it  seemed  but  an  echo,  "I — have — 
always — loved — you — Havard." 

What  a  reproach  hung  upon  these  words,  he 
thought,  though  Frances  could  not  guess  it.  Now 
he  understood  a  thousand  little  things  that  had  but 
faintly  excited  his  attention ;  how  dull  he  had  been 
not  to  comprehend  them  before,  and  in  season! 
Yes,  far  back  in  childhood  the  little  tokens  of  affec- 
tion had  been  manifested;  and  this  noble  girl, 
beloved  and  cherished  by  all  who  knew  her,  might 
have  been — nay,  was —  his ;  and  yet  he  had  been  as 
blind  as  a  bat ! 

A  more  delicate  occasion  could  not  be  conceived. 
Havard's  devotion  to  the  past  was  flawless,  and  had 
he  not  believed  that  the  atmosphere  of  the  invisible 
country  was  fast  settling  about  Frances  his  confes- 
sion would  not  have  been  made.  And  she,  believing 
that  her  feet  were  already  laved  by  the  water  of  the 
dark  river,  did  not  hesitate  to  receive  a  declaration 
that  brought  balm  and  peace  even  in  the  valley  of 
the  shadow  of  death. 


AN  OVERFLOWING  CUP  273 

Everything  about  the  room  was  indelibly  photo- 
graphed upon  Havard's  memory.  It  was  a  little 
apartment,  unceiled,  and  the  bare  beams  almost 
grazed  his  head  as  he  stood  erect.  One  small  win- 
dow looked  out  upon  the  yard,  and  beyond  this  to 
the  south  was  a  fine  orchard  stretching  toward  the 
South  Valley  Hill,  whose  slope  and  summit  were 
crowded  with  chestnut  trees.  The  window  was 
open,  for  the  day  was  warm;  yet  a  pleasant  breeze 
toyed  with  the  curtains. 

Poor  Havard!  The  fragrance  that  penetrated 
the  apartment  from  the  exterior,  the  little  articles 
collected  on  the  bureau,  the  clear  bright  mirror  above 
the  washstand,  the  simple  color-prints  on  the  spot- 
lessly white  wall — all  disappeared  from  his  view 
for  a  moment  as  Frances  resumed,  "It — is  a  comfort 
— to  think  that — you — will — remember — me — Ha- 
vard— when  I'm — gone." 

But  while  it  was  crushing  to  be  reminded  of  her 
approaching  death,  there  was  a  sweetness  in  the 
remark  that  transformed  it  into  a  benediction;  and 
an  ineffable  peace  stole  over  the  face  of  the  gentle 
girl  in  whom  the  tide  of  life  seemed  fast  ebbing,  as 
Havard  told  her  of  his  awakening,  his  struggles, 
and  his  bitterness,  concluding  with  a  profession  of 
affection  that  should  endure  through  the  ages. 

It  was  several  minutes  before  Frances  spoke 
again ;  but  a  slight  pressure  of  her  hand  convinced 
Havard  that  he  had  not  spoken  too  late.  After 
another  interval  she  languidly  pronounced  the 
words,  "Mount  Airy." 

"You  are  thinking,"  faltered  Havard,   "of  our 


274  VALLEY  FORGE 

standing  up  there  overlooking  the  Valley."  "Beauti- 
ful Valley,"  murmured  Frances;  "I  wish  that  you 
and  Ethel — and  I — were  up  there — to  get  the  air — 
and  see  the  hills.  Wouldn't  we  be  happy?"  The 
faintest  playfulness  stole  over  her  face;  then  she 
said  wearily  again,  "But  by  and  by  we'll  hope  to 
meet — no  sickness — no  weakness — no  pain — happy, 
happy  forever!" 

Havard  could  only  tremblingly  kiss  her  hand, 
and  fold  it  up  as  though  he  would  never  loose  it 
more;  and  shortly  afterward,  fearing  that  he  was 
exhausting  her,  yet  hardly  able  to  tear  himself 
away,  suggested  that  she  go  to  sleep.  Then,  rising 
from  his  knees,  he  stood  sobbing  uncontrollably  for 
a  few  moments,  when  he  bent  over  the  sick  girl, 
and,  managing  to  utter  brokenly  the  words,  "Kiss 
me,  Frances!"  touched  her  brow,  her  cheeks,  and 
lastly  her  lips,  with  the  kisses  of  despair.  He 
received  a  response  so  faint  that  only  the  yearning 
of  love  could  detect  it;  but  it  was  enough,  and  in 
its  strength  he  went  many  days  and  nights. 

Once  more  he  pressed  that  dear  hand,  once  more 
he  bent  over  the  fair  face,  and  kissed  brow  and 
cheek,  and  hung  lingeringly  upon  lips  that  would 
probably  never  more  respond ;  and  then  he  tottered 
to  the  stairs. 

As  he  descended  to  the  kitchen  Mr.  Jones  met 
him,  and,  putting  his  hand  affectionately  on  his 
shoulder,  expressed  gratification  at  the  call;  but 
agitation  obstructed  further  utterance.  The  young 
man  could  endure  no  more,  and,  scarcely  knowing 
what  he  did,  left  the  house. 


AN  OVERFLOWING  CUP  275 

Havard  rode  home  physically  and  mentally  over- 
balanced. It  was  a  while  before  he  could  frame  a 
sentence,  and  his  mother  embraced  and  soothed  him 
as  she  was  accustomed  to  do  when  he  was  a  child. 
Her  own  grief  was  intense,  but  pity  for  him  stimu- 
lated her  to  its  concealment.  Presently  however, 
she  extracted  from  his  disjointed  exclamations  the 
information  that  Frances  had  not  yet  passed  away, 
when  he  left  Mrs.  Jones's.  This  astounded  her,  as 
she  had  naturally  inferred  that  all  was  over,  but 
quickly  as  a  flash  of  lightning  illumes  the  sky  a 
thought  surged  through  her  brain  that  perhaps  could 
only  have  revealed  itself  to  a  woman's  mind — a 
woman  who  had  experience  of  the  depth  and  power 
of  love. 

Saladin  was  still  tied  at  the  gate.  Mrs.  Brown 
heard  his  impatient  taps  upon  the  ground,  and  they 
suggested  a  course  of  action. 

"Take  me  behind  thee  at  once  to  Jones's!"  she 
addressed  Havard.  He  looked  at  her  in  a  sort  of 
stupefaction,  but  mechanically  obeyed,  half  compre- 
hending that  his  mother  purposed  rendering  some 
assistance  that  he  could  not  offer.  Mrs.  Brown  tar- 
ried not  for  change  of  dress,  or  aught  else.  Saladin 
nobly  carried  his  double  burden  at  his  best  pace,  and 
soon  Mrs.  Brown  was  set  down  at  the  barnyard  gate 
of  the  Jones  homestead.  She  bade  Havard  go  home, 
and  be  of  as  good  cheer  as  possible,  nor  to  look  for 
her  until  morning,  and  then  hastened  into  the  house. 

It  was  a  full  hour  before  Havard  saw  even  the 
faintest  gleam  of  the  light  that  shone  upon  his 
mother.  But  when  it  penetrated  his  temporarily 


276  VALLEY  FORGE 

dulled  brain  it  affected  him  as  it  must  have  affected 
the  man  with  the  withered  hand  to  feel  life  coursing 
through  his  dry  veins.  Then  his  hopes  were  as 
fagots  of  pitch  pine  to  the  blaze,  and  a  terrible 
anxiety  for  tidings  possessed  him.  Never  had  he 
passed  such  a  night  as  that  which  followed.  If  he 
slept  he  knew  it  not,  and  with  earliest  dawn  he  was 
astir.  He  could  scarcely  control  himself  to  await 
the  probable  hour  of  his  mother's  return.  Nor  did 
he,  for  when  he  could  wait  no  longer  he  threw  the 
bridle  upon  his  horse  and  rode  over  toward  the 
Swedes'  Ford  road. 

Whose  was  that  form,  far  away,  half  hidden  by 
high  bushes?  Could  it  be  his  mother?  Havard 
hastened  onward,  Saladin  responding  to  his  master's 
mood.  Yes,  it  was  she,  surely,  and  in  a  few 
moments  more  Havard  had  flung  himself  from  the 
horse's  back,  while  his  wistful  eyes  searched  her 
face.  He  saw  nothing  to  dread  there,  unless  it 
might  be  her  own  fear  to  tell  him  good  news;  but 
she  determined  to  risk  it. 

"Frances  is  still  living,  Havard,  and  by  the  divine 
blessing  will  not  die,  I  think.  We  must  not  be  too 
sure,  my  boy,  but  I  believe  that  we  may  hope." 

Havard  fell  against  the  radiant  woman,  but 
reviving  hope  and  joy  did  not  kill  him.  He  blessed 
his  mother,  believing  that  her  opportune  attendance 
upon  Frances  had  averted  the  shadow ;  but  now  Mrs. 
Brown  crowned  her  glad  communication  with  the 
smiling  words : 

"It  was  not  I  who  brought  Frances  back  from  the 
margin  of  the  waters,  but  thyself,  dear  Havard. 


AN  OVERFLOWING  CUP  277 

Something  that  thee  said  yesterday  destroyed  the 
disease  that  brought  her  low;  and  if  we  can  only 
contrive  to  build  up  her  weak  body  for  a  few  days 
all  may  yet  be  well." 

Then  the  best  of  mothers — as  Havard  called  her 
— told  something  of  her  interview  with  Frances, 
and  how  she  found  her  apparently  just  lingering 
on  the  brink  of  the  dark  stream ;  how  she  nursed  her 
and  encouraged  her,  and  how  the  faint  tide  of  life 
that  had  almost  ebbed  forever  had  halted,  and  then 
slowly  returned,  at  first  so  feebly  that  it  could 
scarcely  be  perceived,  but  by-and-by  so  surely  that 
Dr.  John  Davis,  who  had  called  this  morning, 
expecting  to  find  her  gone,  had  said  she  was  already 
much  better,  though  not  at  all  out  of  danger.  He 
thought  it  a  miracle,  and  could  not  conceive  its 
cause,  for  Frances's  condition  was  unquestionably 
beyond  all  medical  relief. 

Havard  nervously  indicated  his  purpose  to  visit 
Frances  again,  but  his  mother  gently  restrained 
him.  "Not  for  a  few  days,  Havard,"  she  said. 
"Freeman  is  to  come  over  and  inform  us  of  her 
progress,  or  decline,  if  that  must  be,  so  wait 
patiently.  And,  Havard"  — her  voice  lowered  per- 
ceptibly— "thee  may  pray  for  Frances,  if  thee  would 
help  her  most." 

So  they  went  home  together,  hopeful — even 
happy. 

Freeman  brought  word  that  very  evening  that 
Frances  was  noticeably  improved,  and  each  succeed- 
ing day  strengthened  hope.  Within  a  week  Mrs. 
Brown  again  rode  over — this  time  alone — and  when 


278  VALLEY  FORGE 

she  returned  her  countenance  was  beaming ;  but  she 
said  no  more  than  that  Frances  was  growing  better 
fast. 

It  was  a  month  before  Havard  saw  the  convales- 
cent, and  then  for  but  a  little  while,  when  accom- 
panying his  mother.  For  the  first  time  in  their 
relationship  there  was  a  strange  reserve  upon  the 
part  of  Frances,  and  a  curious  fluttering  in  the 
breast  of  Havard.  It  was  actually  a  relief  to  the 
latter  to  have  his  mother  present  at  the  meeting. 
Yet,  in  view  of  all  the  remarkable  features  of  the 
case,  Havard  would  have  been  disconcerted  by 
Frances's  apparent  coldness  if  he  had  not  perceived 
a  faint  pressure  of  his  hand,  and  a  mantling  of 
Frances's  cheeks  and  brow,  that  belied  her  restrained 
manner. 

How  beautiful  the  Valley  appeared  that  midsum- 
mer day  as  mother  and  son  departed  homeward ! 

With  the  season  Frances  grew  in  strength  so 
rapidly  that  by  the  beginning  of  August  she  could 
renew  a  few  of  her  daily  duties  with  little  fatigue. 
Occasionally  she  accepted  Mrs.  Brown's  invitations 
to  a  ride,  or  took  tea  with  her  old  friends.  But 
Havard  observed  that  the  air  of  restraint  never 
wholly  vanished,  and,  not  yet  understanding  the 
reason,  nor  comprehending  the  philosophy  of  a 
woman's  affection,  was  troubled. 

A  few  weeks  passed,  and  one  day  Havard,  having 
an  errand  at  Neilley's,  rode  around  by  Peggy 
Hambleton's  on  his  way  home,  to  get  the  weekly 
mail  at  Squire  Henny  Bell's,  but  as  he  reached  the 
Lancaster  road  he  observed  a  familiar  form  close 


AN  OVERFLOWING  CUP  279 

to  the  turn  of  the  wood  road  that  led  to  Samuel 
Jones's. 

It  disappeared  in  a  twinkling,  like  a  phantom. 
Havard  was  irresolute  for  a  moment — only  a 
moment.  Should  he  go  on  to  the  store,  or  turn 
into  the  woods  ?  His  quickened  heart-beats  decided 
the  matter.  Soon  he  was  at  the  side  of  the  light 
figure  walking  so  quickly  into  the  depths  of  the 
timber. 

It  was  a  shy,  averted  face,  richly  crimsoned,  when 
it  appeared  to  Havard's  view.  Perhaps  had  it  not 
been  so  he  would  have  been  infinitely  more  embar- 
rassed. But  for  once  he  was  master  of  the  situation. 
"Frances,"  he  simply  said,  after  their  first  words  of 
greeting,  "do  you  know  what  day  this  is  ?" 

She  seemed  surprised  at  the  question,  and  unable 
to  surmise. 

"It  is  the  twelfth  of  September,  the  anniversary 
of  the  day  after  the  battle  of  the  Brandywine." 

Now  Frances  understood.  Vividly  did  she  recall 
that  last  walk  together,  and  their  view  of  the 
cherished  Valley. 

Tactfully  but  courageously  did  Havard  approach 
the  weighty  theme  that  lay  at  his  heart.  It  is  true 
there  were  awkward  embarrassments  to  be  encoun- 
tered, but  they  were  surmounted  or  skillfully  swept 
aside.  The  trunk  of  a  great  oak  was  prone  but  a 
short  distance  from  the  road;  somehow  Havard 
persuaded  Frances  to  be  seated  on  it,  while  he  tied 
Saladin  to  a  sapling. 

If  it  was  the  diplomacy  of  a  courtier,  it  was  also 
the  delicacy  of  a  lover,  that  brought  into  view  the 


280  VALLEY  FORGE 

revelations  of  that  sacred  hour  when  both  were  cer- 
tain that  Frances's  life  was  flickering  to  extinction. 
Her  true  womanly  nature  shrank  from  the  allusion, 
and  begged  to  be  spared  it ;  but  Havard  pleaded  with 
powers  once  unknown  to  his  diffident  temperament. 
Nor  did  he  take  any  unfair  advantage  of  Frances's 
avowal  when  an  exchange  of  worlds  seemed  immi- 
nent. His  plea  took  full  cognizance  of  all  that  had 
preceded  it,  and  was  permeated  with  heartfelt  sor- 
row and  abiding  penitence. 

If  the  soft  rustle  of  the  dead  leaves  from  the  fal- 
len oak  was  produced  by  the  footfall  of  Ethel's 
peaceful  spirit,  the  heart  of  the  loved  and  lost  one 
rejoiced  to  hear  the  tender  references  to  her  that 
fell  from  the  lips  of  both  the  speakers  who  dis- 
coursed in  such  low  accents.  Sorrow  was  mingled 
with  joy,  and  painful  memories  with  chastened 
hopes.  But  the  unexpected  interview  could  have  but 
one  fruition,  and  it  was  understood  that  the  renewed 
friendship  should  be  permitted  to  grow  onward  to 
perfection. 

There  were  no  passers-by  to  be  avoided,  and  only 
the  angels  looked  down  as  Havard  claimed  the  dear 
pledge  of  betrothal.  He  folded  Frances  to  his  heart 
in  a  tearful  rapture,  and  kissed  her  until  she  faintly 
struggled  to  be  free.  But  it  was  sweeter  still  to 
receive  her  answering  caress,  and  to  feel  the  pressure 
of  her  warm  lips  in  response  to  his  own  ardent 
tokens. 

It  did  not  excite  any  remark  when  Frances 
returned  home  in  Havard's  company,  and  Mrs. 
Brown  understood  when  her  son  put  his  arm  about 


AN  OVERFLOWING  CUP  281 

her  and  tenderly  kissed  her.  No  word  was  spoken 
at  that  time  on  either  side. 

How  events  progressed  through  another  year  need 
not  especially  be  recorded.  When  the  community 
became  aware  that  an  old  fellowship  had  been 
revived,  gossip  was  kindly,  and  the  trite  jests  passed 
upon  second  courtships  were  unheard.  In  fact,  the 
Mrs.  Grundy  of  that  day  had  concluded  that  it  was 
just  the  right  thing. 

It  was  not  by  chance — for  Havard  insisted  upon 
it — that  the  wedding  day  fell  upon  the  twelfth  of 
September,  1779. 

Of  that  happy  Sabbath  afternoon,  in  the  little  best 
room  of  Mrs.  Mercy  Jones,  with  doors  and  windows 
open  to  the  sweet  warm  air  without,  the  apples  mel- 
lowing on  the  trees,  the  grapes  on  the  long  trellises 
purpling  deep  with  the  kisses  of  the  sun,  the  South 
Valley  Hill  still  green  and  glorious,  the  little  stream 
dropping  from  its  wooden  spout  in  its  transit  of  the 
yard,  and  the  small  company  of  intimate  friends 
who  gladly  responded  to  the  invitation  to  be  present, 
it  is  not  necessary  to  write  at  large. 

It  was  a  Quaker  wedding — at  least  the  traditions 
of  the  Society  were  observed,  even  if  the  participants 
were  not  in  active  relationship  to  it. 

It  was  sweetly  solemn  when  the  bride  and  the 
groom  rose  to  declare  their  vows.  None  of  that 
company  forgot  the  manly  tenderness  of  Havard  or 
the  gentle  yet  firm  bearing  of  Frances  when  they 
plighted  their  troth  in  the  touching  confession  of 
the  Friends.  And  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jones  and  Mrs. 
Brown  seemed  almost  as  happy  as  they,  and  con- 


282  VALLEY  FORGE 

gratulated  each  other  on  this  auspicious  union  of 
the  families. 

There  was  no  bridal  tour — except  to  Havard's 
home.  Why  should  there  have  been?  There  are 
taller  hills,  and  wider  vales,  and  statelier  streams 
than  those  of  Chester's  emerald  sweep;  but  where 
love  reigns  hills  are  magnified  into  mountains, 
creeks  expand  into  rivers,  and  a  tranquil  Valley  is 
metamorphosed  into  Beulah.  No  more  attractive 
home  in  all  the  land  could  be  found  for  two  young 
spirits  sacredly  united  for  life  than  that  just  without 
the  Valley  Forge  gates — a  lodge  by  the  portals  of 
Elysium. 

Of  the  year  of  bliss  that  followed — a  year  of 
increasing  love  and  intimacy  of  fellowship — the 
romancer  has  naught  to  narrate,  save  that  both  Ha- 
vard  and  Frances  were  satisfied  that  Cowper's 
couplet  of  Providence, 

"The  bud  may  have  a  bitter  taste, 
But  sweet  will  be  the  flower  " 

was  abundantly  illustrated  in  their  own  experience, 
and  that  their  joy  was  unspeakably  deeper  because 
of  the  trials  of  the  past. 

There  is,  however,  one  final  note  of  importance  to 
the  reader :  The  twelfth  of  September,  1780,  brought 
to  the  Brown  mansion  a  wee  maiden  of  singular  win- 
someness.  How  happy  the  father  was,  how  tenderly 
he  waited  upon  the  young  mother,  how  he  crept  into 
the  room  on  tiptoe  and  listened,  with  his  ear  right 
at  the  babe's  lips,  to  be  sure  that  it  was  breathing — 
not  even  this  is  to  figure  in  the  tale;  but  one  day, 
when  "Baby  Blue" — as  they  called  her  on  probation 


AN  OVERFLOWING  CUP  283 

— was  two  weeks  old,  Frances  introduced  the  subject 
of  the  babe's  proper  naming1. 

There  was  a  strange  yearning  in  Havard's  heart 
concerning  a  cherished  name  whose  original  posses- 
sor was  sleeping  beneath  the  grassy  turf  of  Saint 
Peter's.  Often  had  he  and  Frances  visited  the  spot, 
and  lavished  flowers  upon  it.  But  still  he  gave  no 
sign  of  his  desire.  But  Frances  said,  "Havard,  my 
precious  husband,  gives  me  my  way  and  wish  in 
everything;  yet  I  want  one  thing  more — to  name 
our  'Baby  Blue/  '  She  let  her  plump  hand  rest  upon 
the  innocent's  cheek,  never  so  lightly,  and  archly 
continued,  "Have  you  any  objection  to  my  doing 
so?"  Havard  looked  wistful,  but  he  promptly 
responded,  "You  have  given  her  to  me,  Frances 
dear,  you  shall  give  her  to  me  name  and  all." 

"Then,"  said  Frances,  "in  memory  of  our  lost 
one  I  name  her  'Ethel.' ' 

"Baby  Blue,"  at  this  abrupt  transition  in  her 
nomenclature,  sputtered  a  little,  as  babies  will; 
whereupon  her  father,  both  tearful  and  triumphant, 
seized  her  and  pressed  her  to  his  bosom ;  and  when 
Frances  declared  that  his  unshaven  chin  would  rasp 
the  little  thing's  velvet  cheek  he  turned  upon  the 
mother  with  a  caress  of  such  emphasis  that  the  joy- 
ous invalid  was  obliged  to  ask  him  to  desist. 

But  Havard's  cup  was  full  at  last — even  to 
overflowing! 

THE  END 


